Delinquent Love
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Harry is sent to a school for delinquents over the summer and his life changes forever. For better or worse remains to be seen. SLASH. Pairings vary.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This does not mean I am taking a break from my usual project. I was just bored and this plot has been floating around in my documents for a while now.

Disclaimer: I don't' own anything but my OCs and any unfamiliar location to the HP Fan or UK dweller.

Delinquent Love

Chapter One

Harry did his best to smile at Cedric across the Great Hall, receiving a nervous one in return. The final task was today, and none of the champions were eating very much, Fleur not even putting up the pretence but sitting very still in her seat, her younger sister leaning her head against her shoulder in a silent display of support.

When the food disappeared, Harry rose with the other three and left the Greta Hall so they could go change into the uniforms done in their school colors to enter the Maze after giving a few final statements to the press who had been swarming over the school all day, and far more than specifically necessary. He had just tugged his shirt half-on and was working on getting his hair through the neck without pulling his hair too much on the magically enriched fibers when two arms grabbed him tightly around the middle and squeezed, gusts of warm breaths assaulting his ear as Cedric clung to him. Harry had once thought that the older boy had no business being in Hufflepuff since he was so brave and didn't seem to be nearly as sensitive as the rest of the Yellow House, but he had been proven very, very wrong.

Cedric was even more scared to go out there and face the unknown danger of Hagrid's maze than himself, which was saying something since he felt like he was going to piss himself any second. The sandy-haired boy released him and Harry noted a slight flush to his cheeks and wondered why he was blushing, tugging down the hem of his shirt and sitting down to pull on his boots. Neither of them spoke, Harry too focused on not looking like an idiot and, unknown to him, Cedric too choked up. He tugged on the yellow strings of his hood absently, using his fingernails to separate the threads and roll them between his fingers into separate strands.

They left for the pitch where they had both played so many Quidditch games in the past to face whatever things were within the Final Task, brushing off Rita Skeeter twice along the way who wanted to know why two supposed rivals were going together.

--

The Maze had been everything he had been expecting and worse. Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts had managed to mildly burn his left hand and singe most of his hair, but it wasn't so bad. He was more worried about the large scrape down his right leg that had come from one of the maze's opening deciding to close while he was half-way through it, one of the sharp branches cutting him pretty deeply. It had scabbed over quickly, but the way he had to move made it open and re-open frequently in a way that was distinctly painful. He ignored it as best as he could when he came across a Sphinx. Thankfully the riddle was easy, so he feeling a lot more confident when a lone Dementor came floating around one of the corners unexpectedly, knocking him down and practically freezing his blood in his veins in the process. He lay on his back on the grass of the Maze, considering giving up, because what hope did he have to beat the three older and obviously more prepared students? Maybe he should just kill himself because it wouldn't be long before some new problem resurfaced and everybody hated him again. The emotional rollercoaster was wearing him down and…

He straight up when he realized what he was thinking. The Dementor must have sent some kind of depressant into his mind when it had floated through him like that, because he had no intention of dying. He had people who would love him no matter what, and even if the Weasleys turned on him, which wasn't likely, knowing Ron's mother, he would always have Sirius, and hadn't his godfather promised that they would make a home together when his name was cleared?

Resolve re-gathered, he used the treacherous hedge as a crutch, wincing when pressure was put on a bruise he had gotten on his ankle from one of the vines growing on the hedge trying to snap his foot off. Hearing distant noises, he concluded from the pitch that it was Fleur. She sounded panicked and was coming in his direction. He ran back where he had come from, skidding around a corner and coming face-to-face with the scene of an obviously cursed Viktor Krum casting _Crucio _on her while he kept his boot firmly planted on her lower back to prevent her from getting up or crawling away. Her screams made him want to cover his ears because they were so loud, but he raised his wand and petrified Krum instead, rushing to the blonde's side to see how bad the damage was. She had some shallow cuts down the side of her face, the blood oozing out and mixing with the dirt and sweat which created a disgusting mixture that stung and made her eyes water. She whispered a cleaning spell, voice raspy and hands shaking uncontrollably as Harry held her for a moment or two when she caught his sleeve. When she seemed to have calmed down, he raised his wand to send out the red sparks signifying both her location and state of emergency, sending her an apologetic look as he returned to the race, hoping that he would receive some kind of indication if Cedric had reached the Cup first. Stumbling along as fast as he could, his eyes widened when he could see a dim glow through the leaves, signifying the Cup was near. Maybe this horrible ordeal could be over soon! Turning a corner, he could see the Cup itself straight ahead, but then somebody impacted with his back, making them fall to prickly grass spattered with burnt patches thanks to the rampaging Skrewts that had obviously passed through here earlier.

Cedric's wide gray eyes were the first thing he saw when he opened his and he realized that the Hufflepuff must have been running too fast to stop before he hit him. He quirked his lips to show he wasn't mad and Cedric crawled off of him, groaning as he straightened his back. Harry helped himself up despite the older boy's hand, since it would probably pull his back out worse than it already was, which would be counter-productive. He started walking towards the trophy, hoping that he wouldn't have to run because his ankle _really _hurt now. Cedric caught up with him but had shortened his strides so they were walking side-by-side, which confused Harry. Wasn't this a competition? But then, he hadn't been feeling particularly competitive lately and he sure as hell didn't feel like moving any faster than a brisk walk.

Feeling Cedric's eyes on him, he looked up and smiled, receiving one in return. "Why don't you walk faster?" he asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

"I…um…" Cedric didn't seem to have an answer for that, so Harry waved a hand carelessly despite a deep scratch on his wrist that the sweat kept invading. "It's okay. Just a question." They were in the clearing itself now, and then the Trophy was very close indeed and Harry waited for Cedric to take it.

The Hufflepuff seeker didn't make a move. Harry blinked and looked at him. "Uh, Cedric? You can have take the trophy now, and then we can both get out of here."

"What? No, I couldn't! You are here the same as me. _You _take it."

"No, its okay. I don't want it. It's yours, since you actually wanted to be in this contest."

"But I don't want to cheat like this. You deserve it as much as I do. I saw what you did at the 2nd Task, and you did far more than I could have, so you should have it."

Since the issue didn't seem like it would be settled anytime soon, Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Hey, how about we both take it?" Cedric looked at him and asked, "Like a tie?"

"Yeah, since we go to the same school the score will be the same anyway, and we can decide what to do with the rest of the prize later."

"Okay. How about on three?"

"Yeah. One, Two, Three!" They both grabbed the trophy at the same time and Harry immediately felt a sickening feeling that something wasn't right when there was a tug behind both of their navels and they flew out of the sky onto the long grass and weeds of an abandoned graveyard, Harry partially on top of Cedric, which he knew irritated a slice across his stomach where one of sphinxes had swiped him with a claw after he'd given the wrong answer to a riddle. He'd managed to kill it, but he was pretty sure there had been something on those claws because his vitals had been numb for some time now. Harry apologized when he saw what he was doing and removed himself, standing up and surveying their new location.

"Where are we?" He whispered, shivering when freezing autumn wind whistled through the site, raising goose bumps on his exposed arms which made him hug himself to try and arm them up. The cut on his leg began to sting, warm blood dripping into his boots and onto the grass. Cedric gasped suddenly and Harry turned to look at what he had seen, eyes dilating when he saw a cauldron set up, a fire lighting by itself while Wormtail, the bastard who had deceived his father into thinking they were friends before betraying them to the Dark Lord, and he felt angry. But then a sharp pain not unlike a bolt of lightning somehow forming into a static line of pain connected his scar to a small finger the size of a tiny child wrapped in a blanket beside Wormtail. It all made sense now, and all he could do was scream for Cedric to run, hide, anything but stay where they were now. Everything seemed to slow down when he saw Wormtail baring his arm and the Thing that could only be Voldemort touching a wand to the Dark Mark emblazoned there. Cedric stumbled over a half-concealed tombstone, falling face-first onto another stone one that might have been a relative of the first stone since it was of similar size, and he lay still.

The Thing looked straight at him, red eyes burning into green, and Harry's ears were filled with horrible sobbing screams that reverberated around the clearing and made his eardrums vibrate. In shock he realized they were his own, but he could barely see now from the white pain that seared into his very soul. Such pain was not meant to be felt and lived after, of that Harry was sure, and his agony only increased when Wormtail approached and dragged his still-screaming self to a statue of an Angel carved from freezing rock and used the staff the statue was holding as a restraint in addition to some loose shackles which he wrapped around his bleeding wrists. Voldemort looked away and the roar in his ears slowly faded away, leaving only a lingering pain and his mouth feeling like he had swallowed an entire set of church windows, iron fillings included. He spat blood on the grass, unable to force himself to swallow the thick clotted mess.

Cedric stirred on the other side of the graveyard and he prayed that they wouldn't notice. No such luck. Voldemort's high-pitched voice commanded, "Wormtail, bring the other boy over here. I think we should have some…_fun _with him." There was a strange curve to his slit of a mouth, and Harry felt himself panic. _'Not Cedric, not Cedric, not Cedric, not Cedric, not Cedric…' _went through his mind like a mantra as he prayed to some faceless deity, begging for anything but this. Cedric hadn't done anything to deserve this, and it was his fault for pressuring him into taking the trophy with him. God, everything was his fault! Why couldn't he do something _right _for a change?!

Unable to think of anything else to do, he rasped out, "Don't you touch him!" Some blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, entering his scratches and the big cut he had on his neck from the sharp side of the staff digging into him when he tried to wriggle out. Voldemort laughed, though it sounded like the giggle of a demented child, and nodded to Wormtail, who grinned and viciously kicked Cedric in the side. Harry looked away, noticing shadowy figures arriving, obviously having felt the pain in their own Dark Marks. They joined in the brutal game, and Harry screwed his eyes up, unable to stand seeing them hurting his friend in such a mindless way, simply because they were bigger and stronger and nobody could stop them. Cedric's grunts and groans as he slowly floated in and out of consciousness reached his ears through a fog of rage, and he began to slide his body back and forth against the sharp stone lines in the statue, knowing that the blood would act as a lubricant for him to escape. His plan was paused when Voldemort snapped, "Cease." The Death Eaters stopped immediately and stepped back, revealing a bloody mass that could only be identified as Cedric by the sandy color of his hair where it wasn't soaked with blood. His skin was pallid where it wasn't bruised or cut, and Harry knew there was no way he would survive even if he were to get them to medical help now. Tears began to slide down his cheeks as he sagged in the cold embrace of his cooling blood and the Angel's arms and staff. There really was no hope now, and Cedric's harsh breaths and gray eyes fixed on his own only strengthened the idea. Cedric's eyes were wide and compassionate, and it hurt because Harry didn't feel he deserved that kind of a look from somebody whose death he was almost directly responsible for. The other boy's lips moved, mouthing the words 'I forgive you', fixating Harry's attention on them so he missed some little speech of Voldemort's. The speech had apparently been important because the next thing he knew, the cold voice had shrieked, "_Crucio!" _And Cedric's body jerked and arched in a vain effort to escape the waves of fresh pain. Harry eyes blurred as he shut them tightly, tears slipping out anyway and joining the drying ones on his cheeks. The torture continued until Cedric was yelling, unable to scream because those higher vocal cords had been too damaged. The curse abruptly cut off and Voldemort snapped out the Killing Curse, its devil-green bolt stilling Cedric's heart in one fell blow.

The Death Eaters were laughing, but Harry couldn't hear it. Hermione had told him about this condition once, when they were in the library. It was called Shock, and the pain of his right arm being sliced from wrist to elbow, the blood collected in a vial and placed in the cauldron holding the Dark Lord, didn't even puncture his haze. Everything was crystal clear, like he was far away from it all and watching it from the eyes of an apathetic observer.

A cloud of noxious black smoke rose from the cauldron and into the air, morphing into a grotesque and reptilian body cloaked in shimmering black. Red eyes blazed into his own, but he could feel no pain from the intrusive gaze, too far gone by now.

Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe something worse. Either way, he felt nothing whatsoever until the thin lips moved and intoned the syllables of the Pain Curse, making his physical form writhe while his mind squirmed like so much jelly, doing its best to shield his soul from the hellfire. The pain finally stopped after what felt like years, and Harry returned to his body with a jerk. He knew what he had to do when Voldemort turned away from him to speak to his Death Eaters, some kind of speech about his new power and how some of them had been unfaithful in his absence. He was more focused on slipping his fingers silently from the shackles by means of his increased amount of blood pooling around his fingers. That accomplished without being noticed, he shimmied downwards, and bit completely through his lower lip when he was forced to break 4 of his ribs in the process, and then hobbled silently to Cedric, grabbing him under his armpits and doing his best to hold onto him despite the slipperiness of his fingers.

He was halfway to the trophy-turned-portkey when one of the Death Eaters saw him out of the corner of his eyes and attempted to get the Dark Lord's attention. He got crucio-ed for his 'insolence' but the Dark Lord had seen him now and fired off some spells. Harry managed to duck behind a gravestone breathing hard and wishing he wasn't the only one doing so, as the utter lack of life from Cedric was unnerving and made him want to start crying again, as unmanly as that would be.

He reached out his hand, and his slippery palm impacted with the touch-sensitive object. He tried to hold on tightly, but his grip began to slip and he fell when they were almost to the crowd, landing back in the maze. Another rib snapped along with his left arm and he couldn't hold back a small scream. Taking deep breaths (it was supposed to help him think and calm down at the same time, according to Hermione), he slowly raised his bleeding right arm, wand held aloft, and sent up red sparks.

--

End chapter one

Let me know if you liked it, or if you would read more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Harry woke up in the Hospital Wing, and groaned when the burning white decorating scheme of the room reached his eyes. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, muffling his noise of pain when he inadvertently jostled his injuries. Cracking an eye open, he winced when the room remained just as bright, but his blurry vision began to clear as best as it was able without his glasses, the arm that hurt the least reaching out and fumbling about the night table until they closed over the taped piece that connected the lenses. He placed them on his nose and rose up until he was sitting on his calves and looking about himself. He was alone, utterly so. The white-washed walls harshly reflected the spring sunlight into his eyes, and it glanced off of the gleaming yellow wood of the bed, the polished floors, the metal tables on wheels and the spines of the books lining the walls filled with all sorts of healing knowledge. Green eyes flicked over his body and he saw that he was still bleeding, the blood seeping up through the gauze on his arm where the Dark Lord had cut him. How long ago that had been, he did not know. He remembered nothing after having released the sparks but a few faint blurs of Madam Pomfrey hovering over him, hand cradling the back of his forehead so he could drink the potions she was giving him for his various injuries, and being surprisingly gentle with him, not a word of how foolish he had been or how many times he had been seriously hurt.

His body tingled or ached where he had been injured, and he carefully touched his face, fingers trailing over smooth skin, amazed at the efficiency of magical cures. Feeling lower, there was a sharp spike of pain when he fumbled at a bandage around his neck, and his sticky blood began to slide down from under the paleness of the bandage and down onto the collar of his hospital pajamas.

"Shit…" he muttered, pushing up his glasses with his clean hand and reaching for his wand to clean it up before somebody came in and started fussing over him. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he knew that something was wrong…that someone was missing, but he brushed it off, not ready to face the roiling emotions that he knew were tied to whatever it was that had landed him here in the first place. Seeing his robes folded neatly at the foot of the bed, he grabbed them and hurried into one of the curtained off areas to change as quickly as he was able, only tugging too hard on the leg he assumed had been sliced earlier. He managed to limp out, shocked at how empty the halls were for the time of day. This was very unusual…maybe he was dreaming? Sometimes he would have dreams where he would be completely abandoned, entire train stations devoid of any sign of life, supermarkets with registers open but no one manning them.

He shivered at the memory, straightening his tie with fingers still shaking from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus and massive blood loss, both of which were vague memories in the back of his mind. Heading to the Great Hall since he felt kind of hungry, he tried to ignore the growing nervousness in the back of his throat. The door opened silently as he placed his palm on it, and he peeked around it, breath catching when he saw that the tables had been replaced by row after row of chairs, almost all of them filled with those grieving for Cedric. Professor Dumbledore was standing at the front of the room and giving a speech about what a wonderful person Cedric had been, and still was, and how he would be very much missed.

Harry slid into a seat in the back, head throbbing as the memories tried to resurface, sending flashes of Cedric's mangled and beaten body, how cold his blood had been on his hands. How hot his own had been, the gasps he had taken, trying to get both of them out of there even though they couldn't possibly do anything worse to Cedric. His breath hitched and his shoulders began to shake as he tried to hold in the tears, restrain the memories from overwhelming his self-control. Tears slid out and he squeezed his eyes shut, hands clenching in his lap. The Durmstrang boy sitting several seats to the side sent him a curious look, apparently recognized him, and scooted over so he sat beside him and leaned towards him in a silent offer. Normally he would feel awkward about leaning on a boy's shoulder, and crying no less like a bloody _girl, _but at the moment he really could care less.

The ceremony came to an end and the students and visitors slowly filed out, most pausing by something set up on a table that Harry suspected to be Cedric's remains since it was covered, which was just as well because the sight really wasn't something that children should see. His mind offered a sarcastic remark about his own state of childhood, but he brushed his darker side off and made to raise his head from the surprisingly soft fur of the Durmstrang boy's shoulder so he could leave but was restrained by a warm arm wrapping around his shoulders and keeping him there. He had stopped crying a minute ago, and the tracks on his cheeks were starting to itch as they dried, pulling at his skin. He was very tired still, and his eyes slipped closed as he fell asleep, snuggled up to the older boy and resembling a napping cat to any observers, his identity unknown to those passing by because his face was hidden.

Hermione and Ron walked right past him, intending to visit him in the Hospital Wing and see if he was awake yet, oblivious to his current mental and emotional state.

--

He woke up several hours later to a House Elf gently shaking his shoulder and whispering as well as a House Elf can whisper that they had moved all the other chairs and out the tables back in, but they needed to move the chairs he and the other boy were sitting on. Harry tried to nod but discovered that the Durmstrang boy had fallen asleep as well and was resting his head on Harry's head. Flushing, he pulled out his wand, noticing a long scratch on it from where it had been wedged against the statue when it was in his back pocket.

Levitating the unknown student to one of the benches, he settled beside him and drifted back off into the Sandman's arms, entirely unaware of the Headmaster's eyes watching him from his monitoring device in his office high above all the drama and emotional breakdowns that accompanied teenagers everywhere.

In the Hospital Wing Ron and Hermione started an argument with each other over where they should start looking, oblivious to the silencing bubble the school nurse had out around them to prevent them from disturbing the other patients and setting a point-me spell upon herself that would lead her to Harry's hiding place. That foolish boy never could stay still and just let himself _heal. _

Discovering him in the Great Hall, she wondered just how much of the memorial service for the poor Diggory boy he had seen, if any of it.

--

There were 3 days left of school, and Harry just couldn't wait for it to be over so he could leave and be in a place where Cedric had never walked, talked, or breathed. He stared listlessly out the window as Professor Binns rambled on and on about one of the goddamned goblin rebellions, eyes fixated on the graceful movements of the tree as it swayed in the late spring breeze, not a care in the world. He missed being like that.

--

End chapter two

Hope you guys like it! I swear it will not be this…depressing the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: this is still slash, peoples. Hermione is being affectionate and sisterly, not weirdly crushing.

Chapter Three

The train compartment was almost silent, the sound barrier only broken by Ron's snoring and the sounds of Hermione turning pages in her book, brown eyes fastened intently on the words describing the transfiguration of insects into human organs, and was only skipping the parts where how the transfigured copies affected traditional Divination.

He could hear the laughter of the students as they walked past the door, and wondered how they could be so carefree when someone who had been well-loved and kind was now dead, murdered in fact. Hedwig hooted quietly to him from her cage, and poked her head out of the open door to tug on a loose thread of his sweater with her beak, yellow eyes showing as much sympathy as an owl was able. He petted her feathers and scratched gently under her chin in gratitude, green eyes flickering over to the glass of the door when he saw someone wearing brightly-colored clothing walk past, returning to the drab carpet of the compartment when they faded out of view.

It was starting to rain, fat droplets making a soothing pattering noise against the glass and sliding down swiftly after touching it. Harry placed his hand on the glass, flinching at the chill that spread up his arm. Sensing someone watching him, he looked over his shoulder suddenly and caught Hermione sizing him up. She smiled faintly, the only one of his friends who seemed to understand his need to grieve, and extended her foot to brush against his on the floor before withdrawing it and going back to her book without speaking.

Feeling cheered somehow, he tucked his legs up under himself and curled onto his side to try and get some rest before he was returned to his hellish relatives. The movement of the train eventually lulled him into an uneasy sleep where jumbled images and ghost pains flickered over his nerves and his soul without restraint. His fingers flexed on the rough canvas of the train seats unconsciously and Hermione gave into her urge to hold his hand while he slept, enraptured by this new side of Harry that the Tournament had brought to the surface. It was comforting and saddening at the same time, as it meant both that he was finally growing up and that a piece (she wasn't sure how large) of the Harry she had known for the past 4 years was now gone and replaced with a stranger. She hoped that their friendship survived the process that she knew would happen to her and Ron as well eventually.

When she moved Hedwig's cage to the other bench and seated herself by Harry's head, a smile twitched at her lips when he buried his face in the side of her hip in an unconscious plea for support. Support that she was determined to give no matter what kind of shenanigans he may get himself into.

--

When the train pulled into the station, Harry would have thought it was a lot later than 4 o'clock because of the overcast sky and occasional raindrop that landed on him or Hedwig. His owl ruffled her feathers, disgruntled when a large one landed right on her head, tucking it down to create a sort of muff of feathers around her neck and raising a wing to protect herself from the rest of them when the thunder rumbled and an onslaught was launched against them and the Muggles at the station.

A sea of black umbrellas seemed to surround him all of a sudden, and he sighed as he felt himself slowly become drenched as he waited for his uncle to come pick him up, shielding Hedwig in a bit of shallow awning from a closed newspaper stand which he was leaning against, seated on his sturdy trunk.

Puddles formed and melded with other ones as he watched, not even bothering to look at the clock when it began to grow darker and his uncle still did not come to take him to his so-called home. He wasn't bored, occupied with finding shapes in the shifting clouds while they relieved their burdens of water upon the hapless people of Kings Cross, London. When it began to get colder, he tucked his hands into his armpits and hunched forward so the flow of blood through his torso would be refreshed. Hedwig squawked when the awning got heavy with the water and buckled a little, soaking her and Harry with freezing water.

Uncle Vernon was not going to be happy about him getting his car all wet, if he ever came to retrieve him.

Another hour passed, and it was now 7 o'clock, not that Harry knew that, and the rain let up a lot, as had the crowds coming home from work or school on the trains that whooshed through the station on a regular basis. Finally Harry spied the enormous form of his uncle come trudging through the puddles wearing galoshes and wielding a large plaid umbrella. His suit was wrinkle-free and his starched collar rode up further than usual as was fashionable at the moment and his face was red with the effort of walking such a distance as from the parking lot to the station's inner area.

"Boy!" He bellowed without need, as Harry had practically materialized as close to his side as he was able without getting under the umbrella as he knew that would induce a lecture about his 'cheek' and insolent greediness.

"Yes, uncle Vernon?" he asked politely, voice rasping a bit from the still-healing rawness he had acquired in the graveyard. Vernon jumped, not having seen Harry approach and cuffed him on the ear for sneaking up on him.

"Nothing." The man muttered, stalking as best he could with his weight and sheer mass to the beige car. Harry shrugged and followed, one hand carrying Hedwig's cage (she did not appreciate the way he was swinging his arm) and the other clasping the rusting handle of his trunk as he hauled himself over to the vehicle. Wedging his belongings into the trunk and releasing Hedwig so she could find a place to nest that was more peaceful than the Dursleys', he sat himself in the back seat farthest from his uncle, spending the hour-long car ride there staring bemusedly out the window and oblivious to how uncomfortable the vacant look in his eyes was making his uncle.

--

Pulling into the driveway, Vernon shut off the car and went inside; ignoring his nephew's efforts to open the boot of the car and remove his things so he could sleep in something dry that night. Rolling his eyes at his immaturity, Harry used his small reservoir of magic labeled accidental and opened the car, locking it once he was done removing both items.

The house smelled like dried lavender and sweet potatoes, the scent permeating the entire house. Aunt Petunia must have burned dinner, he mused, silently heading upstairs to his room because he knew they weren't going to feed him even though he was starving, having skipped lunch because he had eaten a large breakfast at Hermione's urging. Ron would have urged too, had his mouth and attention not been entirely focused on his own plate, much to his sister's disgust.

Smiling at little as he thought of his friends, he pulled his wet sweater over his head and left it in a crumpled heap on the floor, resolving to wash it and his trousers tomorrow with the Dursley's laundry. Maybe he could get some food then too, if his aunt was still a member of that gardening club that met every Tuesday for tea and therefore unable to guard the icebox.

Collapsing on his bed, he stared at the cracks in the whitewashed plaster of his ceiling until he fell asleep.

--

End chapter three

Hope you guys liked it! I wrote it pretty fast, so I hope its not rushed.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: those of you who might think Harry cleans faster than is realistic, I timed myself taking my time cleaning a good sized house, so this is accurate. If anyone cares, that is.

Chapter Four

He woke with a jolt to the sound of his aunt rapping her bony knuckles against his door and screeching at him to get off his lazy arse and make breakfast before her husband left for work. His eyes blearily focused on the clock on his bedside table once he had groped for his glasses, idly noting that sleeping until 6 was hardly lazy. At least he hadn't had any nightmares last night.

Nonetheless, he crawled out of bed and got dressed as fast as his waking body was able, fingers stumbling over the buttons of his jumper more than once. Foregoing shoes, he opened his door and passed quietly by his cousin's room, the bathroom (he could hear his uncle showering), and then to the stairs. His eyes flicked to some new family portraits that had been taken in his absence with vague interest, seeing that his cousin was now more muscle than blubber. Hopefully he wouldn't feel the need to assert his authority over Harry.

Entering the kitchen silently, he crossed the expanse of pristine tiles to the icebox, removing the supplies for bacon and eggs, even though his uncle certainly didn't need the extra cholesterol. Snickering, he made sure to cook more than usual in a passive-aggressive plot to raise his blood pressure further and possibly give him a stroke so he would be out of the house in the evenings while he was there.

The smell of frying meat and poultry filled the house, and drew his uncle from his bedroom, hair ruffled a little and dripping in some spots from his shower onto his white dress shirt and paisley tie. He sat down, the chair groaning under his weight, and Harry carefully placed the food on a plate and poured some of the coffee that his aunt had started earlier, avoiding eye contact as much as his uncle was.

An hour later his cousin stumbled down the stairs, the creaky step squealing when he stepped on it, entering the kitchen eating area and sitting down in front of the dish of eggs and hash browns Harry had made for him along with some milk. He grunted at Harry and began to shovel the food into his mouth, making Harry throw up a little in his mouth at the sight. Heading back to the stove when a thin stream of drool came out of the corner of his cousin's mouth, he turned up the heat and put on some bacon, frying a few more slices than his aunt would want so he could sneak some. His stomach rumbled for what felt like the hundredth time and he sighed, hoping she would hurry down and eat so he could too.

When she finally made her appearance, dressed in a flowered dress and lacy cardigan that only served to make her neck look longer and more unattractive, she tossed a list penned in her neat cursive detailing his various responsibilities for the day. They had numbers next to the tasks, and he skimmed the list until he reached the bottom of the opposite side. It was number 56.

She sat down and ate her breakfast, leaving her dishes on the table when she was done and taking Dudley by the arm, saying that she would drop him off at Pier's house for the day and a sleepover so he could spend time with his friends before staring up school the day after tomorrow. The mention of Dudley being required to do summer school made Harry smirk, and Petunia pinched his arm when she reached over him where he was cleaning the windows for the hell of it to reach her purse. He rubbed his arm, glaring at her rebelliously from under dark brows. The door shut with a discreet slam behind her

Sighing, he set to work on the dishes as fast as he was able, taking bites of the bacon as he cleared the dishes from the table and wiped it down thoroughly. Finishing the kitchen and pressing the 'start' button on the dishwasher, he opened the cupboard that held the cleaning supplies under the sink and grabbed what he would need for the bathroom, mentally going over everything he could remember from the list while he was on his hands and knees working on the tub until it gleamed porcelain. He cringed when he dug out the hairs from the drain, not wanting to think about what part of the body they had come from when he dumped them in the trash. Finishing both bathrooms in under an hour, he dusted the entire house, vacuuming directly afterwards to clean up any of the fallen dust.

Stripping the beds, he set up the load of laundry and went outside to trim the bushes that lined the path to the house until they were in perfect symmetry. Checking on the laundry, he added a different load and took the wet sheets outside to hang them up to dry in the early morning sunshine while he weeded the flower beds. Completing that, he trimmed the grass of the front yard, taking down the dry sheets from the back before he mowed back there. Finished with the outdoor work, he hung up the second load, clothing this time, on the line, waving to his neighbor Mrs. Figg before going inside to start the load containing his clothes as well as the remainder of the Dursleys'. He ate lunch while they washed, fixing himself a sandwich with the older deli ingredients that his aunt wouldn't miss and would throw out anyway. He was careful to clean up after himself, drying the dishes with a towel instead of having them air-dry in case she got back early.

Work completed except for the outdoor shed which he couldn't do until she came back with the paint, he went upstairs to do as much of his homework as he could before his family found reason to confiscate his trunk. He had accomplished a third of it by 1 in the afternoon when his aunt pulled in the driveway alone, sending a syrupy smile to the young lawyer who had moved in across from them as she exited. He smiled back and Harry smirked to himself as he watched their careful flirtation play out. Suddenly very painfully reminded of something that he had seen Cho and Cedric doing, he squeezed his eyes shut and wrote the finishing phrase on his charm's theory parchment with shaking hands, blotting the paper three times.

His aunt knocked on his bedroom door harshly several minutes later, not giving any instruction other than the sound of crinkling plastic shopping bags and the metallic thuds of paint cans meeting the freshly-cleaned carpet.

--

When he was finally done painting the shed (he hadn't realized how big it was until he'd removed the supplies and outdoor equipment stored inside), the sun was just becoming a little less hot and a nice breeze had come along, cooling his skin in a delightful way as he cleaned up after himself and arranged the door of the shed so that both the interior and the door itself could dry.

Stepping inside, he passed his aunt where she was watching a soap opera to shower; being sure to take some clothes with him so he didn't unwittingly expose himself to a nosy neighbor who might peer in the windows at an inopportune moment. Testing the water temperature, he stepped inside the stall and furiously scrubbed his hair until all the stray bits of dried paint were gone, doing the same to his legs from the knee down and the entirety of his arms as he had managed to find a sleeveless shirt that didn't hang too long, which would have made it look like a dress. He was already a hot enough topic amongst the neighborhood because of his supposed delinquency, and a cross dresser wasn't something he needed to be accused of at this point of his life.

Skin lobster red both from the scrubbing he had given it and the too-hot water, he toweled off briskly and stepped into his trousers, pulling his jumper over his head and sighing when one side of the neckline of the garment slipped a little off of his bony shoulder. So much for not looking feminine.

He really didn't have time to be thinking about that, though, since he was supposed to be working on the roast for dinner, and the chicken would need some time to marinate if it was going to be up to his visiting Aunt Marge's taste.

--

End chapter four

If you haven't already, listen to 'Forecast of Doomsday' by Kin. It is delightfully creepy, and worth listening to at least once.

Review please! They make me all enthusiastic about writing more chapters…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Once again, Harry's actions and daily routine is based firmly on reality (except I was never stupid enough to get myself thrown into a boarding school for glorified psychos and the antisocial elite). No wonder I am tired all the time…dammit, I need a holiday.

Chapter Five

It was early in the morning when his aunt materialized over his sleeping body, hands on her hips and a sneer to match on her lips when she saw his face buried in his pillow as he whimpered, shoulders shaking and obviously in the grip of some nightmare.

Harry jerked awake when she cleared her throat loudly, eyes assuring his mind that he was at the Dursleys' and in his own bed, not in the graveyard clutching Cedric to his chest and praying that he was just sleeping and not really…_that. _"What?" He mumbled, looking at her with hazy eyes and raising one hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. The sun hadn't even peeked over the hills yet, so he knew it was insanely early. Maybe his relatives were trying to kill him by slowly taking away his hope and exhausting him until he could argue no more?

"Get up and pack your things. We're leaving for Saint Brutus' Academy for Troubled Youths in two hours, and you still haven't made breakfast." That said, she swept out of the room and slammed the bedroom door behind herself. He waited tensely until he heard her footsteps cross the landing and descend the stairs to the kitchen to start some coffee. Harry relaxed his neck muscles and flopped back onto his flat pillow, eyes fastened on his ceiling as he devised various theories for his aunt's strange announcement. Why were they going to a Muggle delinquent center?

No solutions coming to mind after the minute he was allowing himself to bask in the questionable warmth of his bed, so he sat up and made sure to strip the bed and take the sheets with him downstairs once he had dressed and folded most of his clothes that were lying around on the floor because his family hadn't been considerate enough to give him a chest of drawers in which to keep them. Skipping the creaky step, he entered the kitchen after starting a load of laundry and pulled out the pans he would need to make French toast, still occupied with thinking about why in the hell he was being asked to pack and being carted off to some school. He accidentally burned a few slices of bacon around the edges, so he used them as his breakfast but saved 2 for Hedwig and set the kettle on the stove to boil while biting off half of one, the charcoal-edged meat making loud crunches noises that were only drowned out by the hissing of the frying bacon.

Finishing breakfast preparation, he set towels over the dishes after placing them on the table and setting up placements so it would be hot when the rest came down to devour it. Heading upstairs again, he gathered his toiletries and brushed past his aunt with her hair in curlers to commandeer the bathroom. Showering quickly in scalding water (any colder made him feel like he hadn't quite burned the bacteria off of himself, and sometimes he felt like blood was pooling up from his pores and it needed to be scrubbed away before it infected him), he exited the bathroom after a brisk 20 minutes and got dressed in a set of clothes that were a little less embarrassing than the others, and packed the rest tightly into his trunk. Enlargement charms had made him forget about how hard it was to cram things into a certain amount of cubic feet. He managed somehow, though, and gave his hair an experimental pat to see if it was in the mood to be obedient to him today. It wasn't, and moved in an unfelt breeze out of his reach. Sighing, he stroked Hedwig's feathers and fed her one of the bacon strips he had saved for her, setting the other one on the floor of her cage for her to pick at later because he wasn't sure when he would be able to feed her normally again.

Taking his things downstairs and setting them by the door, he headed towards the sounds of clinking plates and saw that his aunt and uncle were awake and Vernon was chomping away, only taking brief breaks from shoveling food into his mouth to take a gulp of his coffee while his aunt sat on the other end of the table delicately nibbling toast while her tea cooled. Harry sent her a questioning look and she raised a finger to signal that they weren't leaving just yet. He gave no sign of acknowledgment, but turned and headed towards the closet that contained the washer silently. He took the basket of wet things outside into the chill of the morning (he had glanced at the clock a few minutes before and it had been a little after 5 a.m.), pant legs quickly becoming soaked through from the dew as he hung up the sheets and large shapeless sacks that stretched so tightly over his uncle and cousin in the form of clothes.

He had just finished when the screen door creaked and Aunt Petunia crooked a finger at him. Shouldering the bag, he followed her inside and through the house, setting the basket on top of the washer as he passed it. He collected his trunk and Hedwig's cage, a sinking feeling permeating him as the pieces began to fit together and he could only pray that Voldemort wouldn't be strong enough or bold enough to try and attack him while he was outside the supposed protection his blood bond with his aunt created. Vernon huffed and puffed his way down the driveway, chins jiggling and swinging long after he had settled himself in the front seat of the car, Petunia beside him and already removing a popular novel from her respectable handbag and opening it to her folded corner. Amusing himself by staring out the window, Harry watched the scenery brighten as the sun began to climb higher in the sky. They passed by neat lawns and identical houses for some time, but that gave way to a more untamed and dangerous neighborhood, one that made Harry feel far more comfortable. A car was driving beside them, and he made eye contact with the restless toddler in the back seat, lips upturning in a tired smile (he hadn't slept well or very long) that the child returned happily, grinning practically ear to ear. Without meaning to, Harry laughed a little and was rewarded with a booming, "Be quiet, boy!" from his uncle that cowed him for the next hour into silence broken only by him sneezing once from his aunt's excessive perfume (lately she had been putting far more effort in her appearance) and the turning of the pages in her novel.

It was an hour before lunch when they pulled onto the cracked asphalt of a massive and forbidding facility identified as their location by a wood sign on the front lawn that had been vandalized and had crude words either carved into it or painted on in garish colors. The pit of Harry's stomach began to ache with nervousness, and he almost felt like hiding somehow in the car so he wouldn't have to go.

Sliding out the door of the automobile, he carefully closed the door behind him and dug his trunk out of the boot of the car with no mean effort, Hedwig squawking at him as if to say that he worked too hard when he finally pulled it free. How his uncle could even fit into such a small vehicle was still a clear defiance of physics and the laws of mass despite his claims of losing weight.

Making the decision that Hedwig would not be happy here, he snuck off into the woods that grew along the concrete wall of the building while his family filled out paperwork and compared documents. Setting the cage in a cavity made by some discarded chunks of churned concrete, he opened the door and let Hedwig make several low circles above his head before she settled down and he explained that he would visit her if he could, and for her to avoid getting into trouble. She bit his ear after that remark in some strange display of feministic independence.

Rolling his eyes, he sprinted back to the car just as his family finished their business and would have noticed he was missing if he had arrived a second later.

"Boy, you will take these papers to the front desk just inside the doors of the school so they can settle you. We will arrange to have you brought back a week before you go to that damned school of yours." His uncle barked, thrusting a packet of documents into his hands. "If we get one letter saying anything about you doing something _freaky, _I will personally come up here and beat you until you learn to keep yourself under control. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry replied, holding his gaze steadily because he knew it irritated him and he wanted to have at least some modicum of revenge, no matter how petty.

When the car had driven off in a cloud of dust, and he had had his fill of staring after it, he grabbed his trunk and trudged up the long driveway to the place that would become his home for the next 3 months.

--(A/N: Um, I have heard that the Hogwarts summer holidays last 2 months, and I have heard that they last 3. I'm going with 3, but if anybody knows the actual number, please tell me. The specific day school starts would be nice too. Thank you)--

The woman at the office, who might have had troll blood somewhere in her family tree from the look of her bone structure, accepted the papers with a scowl and took a moment to skim the top sheet and place the rest in a box labeled 'To Be Filed'.

"Last door on the left on the 4th floor, young man. If you aren't in there by 6 p.m., which is dinner time, you will get a mark on your record. Seeing as it's the first day, you might want to avoid doing anything stupid."

"Yes ma'am." Like he would do anything stupid! He wasn't a delinquent, unlike the boys who were enrolled legitimately, so why would he even need to be given a second glance?

It had been a while since he had done any sort of Muggle schooling, so he hoped that he would be able to pick it up fairly well and just sink into the background instead of drawing attention to himself because he was 'weird'.

--

End chapter five

I know it's been a while since I've updated this, but this isn't on a strict schedule so it tends to get pushed into the background. Hope people still read this…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This has nothing to do with the fic, but if any of you reading this like yuri and haven't seen the movie 'Lost and Delirious', I suggest you go out/online and see it now. It is superb.

Chapter Six

The first day was hell. There was no other word for it, Harry was absolutely sure after having pored over a dictionary for several hours at 2 in the morning due to being locked out of his room by his asshole room mates. Except maybe excruciating, but even that didn't quite cover it. Firstly, he had barely managed to locate an empty bed to sleep on and stuff his trunk under it before a pack of tough-looking boys had come in, pronounced themselves his room mates, and thrown him out. He had slept in a closet, gotten dressed in the two minutes between when breakfast ended and class started, bypassing a shower completely, because his room mates had finally left the room. At least they hadn't been smart enough to take his key. He had then gotten lost and remained so for most of the day, getting a detention for missing a few classes and another tomorrow for 'skipping' lunch, which was mandatory and under surveillance to make sure that the boys weren't doing anything they shouldn't be. Last he had checked, being locked on the roof after taking a wrong turn didn't count as an act of defiance. Not like anyone would listen should he dare to complain.

The second day was a little less bad, as a hall monitor had caught his room mates trying to lock him out a third day and intervened. Harry thanked god his bed was close to the bathroom, where he ended up locking himself. A little more familiar with the school halls by now, he had only missed one class, which had been cancelled at the last moment so he wasn't in trouble anyway.

The days after that became increasingly uneventful as his novelty wore off (most of the students were repeat attendees) and he learned to keep his head down and his mouth shut. He studied very hard, not having friends or sports to keep him occupied, earning raised eyebrows from professors used to under achievers or children with absolutely no respect for higher education whatsoever. He had tried out for the school's rugby team, but had been rejected because of his height and delicate bone structure as he had suspected, both of which were wonderful qualities for a Seeker but not for any other position in sports.

The second Friday he was there he managed to sneak outside and visit Hedwig, who had apparently mated with a large black eagle owl who seemed very hostile towards any offending creatures daring to approach his bride without his consent. Harry tossed her an owl treat and left the clearing with a bite from the sharp beak of the proud eagle owl, absently bandaging it with a scrap of his shirt later that night, mind more occupied with being proud of his familiar for finding such a fine owl to settle down with. He could only hope that their romance would last the trip to Hogwarts, or that he could find some way to take the both of them.

That had been yesterday. Now he was sprawled on his bed in a patch of rare sunlight, writing in a journal he had gotten from Hermione for Christmas two years ago and had never really bothered with. Now that he needed something to confide in, the journal provided the perfect escape. The afternoon was hot, but Harry still didn't move from his spot on his bed, surrounded by books and papers that rustled like the trees, reminding him what they were made of and how they were now inexplicably dead because someone outside of their kind had decided it was okay to kill them.

_July 19__th_

_Today I was given a detention for skipping lunch again. I know I should at least try and follow the school's eating rules, but somebody always, ALWAYS notices me not eating and then they don't go away until I am forced to swallow something. Thank god nobody monitors the bathrooms._

_Also, an upperclassman actually smiled at me as we passed in the hall between the library and History class. It wasn't a threatening smile, either, so I think it is possible that friendly people might actually attend here. Wish me luck in finding somebody to talk to soon. Not that you aren't enough, it's just that I would like somebody who is, you know, solid and made of flesh._

_H.J.P. _

He signed his initials and sighed, twirling his pen around his fingers and going over the tall thin boy who had given him his first smile in over two weeks. He probably would have spent his evening considering it off and on if the door hadn't creaked open, revealing Fred, a mischievous grin lighting up his normally drab features. He practically sauntered over to him, depositing a scrap of lined paper, obviously torn from a book of notepaper. On it was an address and a time: 10 o'clock.

"What's this?"

"What does it look like, Potter? It's a party invite, and don't be worried about coming late. It doesn't end until we are missed or the booze runs out." He laughed and made as if to leave, making Harry scramble to his feet, rustling the papers he had prepared for a ridiculously easy school assignment, to exclaim, "Wait! What day? It doesn't have a date on it." He waved the scrap to demonstrate, shifting his legs so they crossed at the ankle.

"It's tonight if you can make it. The teachers like to drink or visit family on the weekend, so we will have a very low chance of getting caught. And besides, even if we do, the punishment could hardly be worse than what we put up with every day. Later, P!"

The door slammed behind him, making Harry jump a little. Should he go? What if it was a cruel trap, set up as a sort of delayed revenge for some imagined crime?

--

The 'party' turned out to be a dorm room at a small university, belonging to an older brother of one of the students who had showed up, and the smell of cigarettes and cheap beer hit his nostrils immediately upon entering, as well as a lingering undertone of what must have been sweat mixed with perfume. A couple of girls were scattered throughout the small room, barely visible through the bodies crammed inside. The music was loud enough to blast his ear drums, and he didn't know any of the words, but he helped himself to some beer and found a seat on the floor between the bed and the closet door.

He moved after hearing strange noises from the closet that sounded suspiciously like two young people were getting to know each better. Ending up in the hallway into which the party had spilled, he sipped his beer and examined the faces of his classmates, taking in their petty small-talk, a few groups gathered around one or two people who were grieving over heartless girlfriends, and-

There he was. The student who had smiled at him, and he was heading straight for him. Harry froze up, and his fingers tightened around the plastic cup until the edges crinkled and he probably would have broken through it if the student hadn't come to stand beside him, a friendly look on his face. "You're the new kid, right? Potter, was it?"

"Uh, yeah, you are…?" He forced an amiable look on his face, quashing down the same depression that always came to him when he saw how happy and unconcerned people were who hadn't seen death. Lucky bastards, all of them, Harry thought bitterly, taking a big gulp of his beer and beginning to feel a little fuzzy and warmer than usual.

"Jordan Hurley, and my dorms are on the floor above your's." Harry nodded, suddenly discovering that he needed the cheap plaster wall he was leaning against to prevent him from stumbling around.

"Cool. You're a senior, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, I room with the Head Boy."

Harry jostled his brain fluids by nodding more than necessary, stumbling a little as he moved closer to Jordan so he could hear him a little better over the pounding bass of the music. He overbalanced and fell a little onto Jordan, who laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders instead of setting him up against the wall.

"Hey, you want to go someplace quieter?"

"Sure." Harry slurred, draining the rest of drink and accepting another from an older student who was nicely passing them out to those who couldn't wedge their way into the dorm room where the beer was being kept. Drinking half of it in one gulp, he grinned at Jordan as the cold night air slammed into them (it was colder here than in Surrey) and allowed himself to be maneuvered towards a bench resting against a tree in a more secluded section of the campus.

"So…how did you get landed in the lovely shit hole the Establishment dares to call a school? You hardly look the type."

"Hey! I break rules all the time." Harry mumbled, remembering the numerous occurrences in which he had done just that to perform some strange task or fend off the end of the world. Jordan laughed, and if Harry hadn't been drunk, he would have noticed that the older boy's laughter had a hard edge to it that only the cynical had, giving it a hollow ring.

The moon shone brightly, crescent shaped and suspended in the heavens with the pulleys of thought, their only observer of what would later cause them so much confusion.

--

End chapter 6

Hey, I know I haven't updated this one in a while, but I have been sick, busy working, and just generally distracted. Review please and tell me what you think! Next chapter the interesting stuff begins :P


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I always forget to do these, so I would like to say once for the entire fic that I do not own Harry Potter. Jordan and the establishment Harry is attending are mine, though, and so will most of the people you don't recognize floating throughout it.

Chapter Seven

Harry awoke, flat on his back, and lying on something a little prickly but otherwise reasonably comfortable. His head throbbed and the pain from it made his waking process slower than usual. Eventually he realized that, last he'd checked, his new dormitory did not have a skylight and therefore something had either blown the roof off of his new school or he was not indoors since the sun was shining cheerfully directly into his eyeballs when he dared to flutter his lids open. He was wearing his glasses, he noted with a little consternation, and was lying on what he now recognized as grass. Just as he was telling himself not to panic and that he had no proof (yet) that he had been kidnapped by Death Eaters, a face appeared in his range of vision.

He screeched and leapt to his feet, stumbling and eventually collapsing when the scant fluids surrounding his brain matter sloshed together and agitated the absolutely horrible headache he had mysteriously acquired. An irritatingly loud voice asked him if he was okay, and a small and feminine hand tugged at his sleeve, kneeling beside him on the slightly-yellowed grass. Mentally swearing like a sailor and insisting to his emotions that there was no need to be upset with the girl; how was she supposed to know that she had just nearly scared him out of his wits? He turned to look at her, wincing at the sunbeams that took advantage of his moment of forgetfulness to fry his unfortunate retinas. He literally saw stars and his body bonelessly fell down onto the grass, his bum landing on a spiteful thistle which embedded a few nettles into the flesh after penetrating the thinning fabric of his over-sized cast-offs that he was wearing, courtesy of Dudley.

Remembering that she had asked him a question, he replied, "I think I'm okay…don't really know where I am or how I got here, though." He smiled, not caring whether she could see it or not, laughing at the irony of doing something so foolish when he really ought to have been on his highest alert until he felt safer in his new environment. Absently reaching down to tug at the nettles once he'd shifted his body out of range of the nasty and quite spiky weed, he turned his head until he looked the girl in the eyes. She was older than him by at least ten years and was wearing an outdated gray dress with a faint floral print, a bulky pair of boots probably intended for hiking on her feet, mud-colored socks protruding from the tops of them.

"Hello, there." She chirped, smiling so nicely that Harry immediately knew that God put this woman on earth to raise children. No one other than a saint with the infinite patience of an ocean could smile like that at a complete stranger who she'd found lying on the floor of a…park? Now that he trusted himself to look around, he saw that he was in a rather nice field on the outskirts of a school building that was not either of his own, and he'd ended up pretty close to a birch tree whose leaves rustled in the wind, glittering back and forth from cool pale green to brilliant silver. Its white bark was truly beautiful in the sunlight and he wished that he was with some friends so he could point out its beauty to them. Being in the company of a strange woman instead, he smiled at her and said, "Hello to you too, ma'am. The trees look lovely today."

"That they do. I especially like this Birch we're under." She did not look miffed at the change in topic, removing a bottle of water from her leather satchel that might have been a decent brief case at one time, but that time had been a while ago. "This will help remove that rotting corpse taste from your mouth, love."

Despite the risk of it being poisoned or drugged in some way, he accepted it and chugged down a good bit. She had made him aware of the disturbing feeling that his mouth was coated with acid and he was desperate to remove the aftereffects of…whatever he'd done last night. He strained his mind, trying to recall what he'd done last night to end up here. Dimly, he remembered going to someone's dorm for a drink and drinking a bit too much before ending up out here with-

He couldn't remember anything else. A jabbing pain in his lower regions made him gasp and choke a little on the water. She removed it from his grasp gently and rubbed his back until he stopped. The pain persisted but began to dull after a little while. He shifted his hips and grimaced when he felt a strange and quite unpleasant sensation from an area that he really didn't want to have examined by a doctor or anyone, actually.

"What's the matter?" The lady asked, seating herself beside him and tucking her legs up under her skirt modestly. A cat he hadn't noticed before rubbed its head against her knee fondly, purring when she scratched its ears. Its fur was thick but didn't seem to have a uniform color scheme. He mentally dubbed it a 'tabby' because he wasn't sure what else to call it. The feline reminded him uncomfortably of Filch's devilish sidekick, Mrs. Norris. He shuddered and accepted the water from the nice lady to distract himself, going back to rinsing his mouth out. Toothpaste and a thorough scrubbing of his gums would probably do a far better job, but he wasn't sure where he was so it could be a long time before he so much as saw a toothbrush for all he knew.

"Um, where are we?" He bashfully asked, pinching himself for not asking earlier.

"I have no idea. I took a longer morning walk than usual and came across this lovely place. And then when I saw you lying there, looking deader than a doorknob, I simply had to see if you were alright. Fairly sure this is a school of some kind that we're trespassing on, though, so perhaps you attend here?"

"Um, not that I know of." He scratched the back of his head, grimacing when he felt a bruise and a little crusted blood gathered around where the skin had broken. "I was recently sent to St. Brutus', though. Do you know where that is?"

"Oh! Yes, I do. It's that way…somewhere. Walk long enough and I'm sure you'll come across it." She grinned inanely while gesturing to their right and took a long sip from a flask that she'd produced from her satchel. He turned his head so she wouldn't see him roll his eyes.

"Well, thanks for the water and the directions. I'd better be going before a search party is sent out for me." He smiled politely and stood, almost losing his balance when the region of his arse ached and sent stabs of pain up his spine. Whatever he'd done last night, he was never doing it again.

--

A very long lecture and a detention later, Harry floated off to his next class, not really paying attention or caring about the admiring or just plain awed looks some of his classmates that his mind dimly recognized as present at the party last night were giving him. He'd probably done something 'brilliant' like win a drinking contest or something. They were a bunch of wusses if they were impressed by someone like _him, _though, and he wondered just what sort of thing one had to do to end up here.

It was on the way to the last class of the day when one actually approached him. His voice was breathy and his eyes shone as he whispered, "Do you have any idea how awesome what you did last night was? When you didn't show up at morning classes we thought you had actually killed yourself or something! Scared us all half out of our minds. Never been so happy to see someone as I was when I spied you earlier."

Harry blinked at him and then whispered back, "Do I know you? And what did I do last night? I don't remember anything and I woke up with a creepy lady who gave me directions in a park this morning, which is why I was late."

"You…you don't remember? Shit, you must have really hit your head, then."

Harry felt the back of his head, knowing that he should really wash the cut soon before it got infected. Wasn't like he had time to shower before classes, though, so he had to put up with his hair plastering itself to his forehead all morning in a way that annoyed him more than usual because he was frustrated with how faulty his memory had decided to be today. "There's a large bump on my head, yeah. What did I do to get it?"

The other boy shook his head and went to a different classroom. At the last minute he waved at Harry before disappearing inside with the rest of the boys who were in that one. "I'll talk to you later, Potter!"

"…Okay." He realized that he was alone in the hall, cursed, and dashed off to his last class. He arrived just as the professor opened his mouth and blushed heavily when the man scowled at him discouragingly over his spectacles. He slunk to the empty seat in the front row, chewing on his pen in between taking notes or reading paragraphs pointed out by the man.

Someone passed him a note. He didn't recognize the kid, but they seemed to know who he was so he opened it when the teacher turned away to write on the board. It said:

'How are you still ALIVE?!'

He re-read it, frowned in confusion and tucked the note under his textbook just in time when the professor turned around to address his class again. When the coast was clear, he wrote back:

'What did I do? Tell me and I'll answer your question if I can'

He tossed the note into the other boy's lap with a practiced flick of wrist. Years of practice with Ron in Transfiguration class had honed his note-passing abilities to perfection.

The other boy stared at him open-mouthed and then turned back to his text after reading the note. Harry glowered at him for not answering his question. Since when had everybody he knew become such evasive bastards?

--

At dinner that night, which he opted to spend picking at his Sheppard's Pie since he had bruises on his stomach and what felt like a cracked rib, a pack of boys worked up their courage to sit at his table. He blinked at them, drank some water, and went back to his dinner, constructing the mashed potatoes into a passable portrait of Sirius in dog form.

He wasn't hungry, and his stomach had started to ache with the very thought of forcing food into it.

"So, Potter, what exactly do you remember from last night?" One of the boys, who were a few years older from what he could see, asked while leaning forward and resting his chin on his palms.

"Um, going to the party…getting sloshed and nothing else after that. Will someone please tell me what's going on? It's really annoying to have supposedly done something impressive and not even remembering what it is." Not that that wasn't the whole basis of his status as Boy Who Lived, but that was a different subject for a different time.

"Oh, sorry, mate, we didn't realize it was bothering you this much. Most of the school thinks you are bluffing about not remembering anything."

"Most of the school?" dammit, he hated it when people talked about him when he wasn't around.

"Yep. You're quite the hot topic. Anyways, about last night, you came to the party, drank some, went off to talk to the Head Boy, and came back a few hours later, won several drinking contests, and then people started daring each other to do stupid stuff. Eventually we got bored of that and started talking about stuff nobody could ever do and live through in one piece. Somebody joked that nobody could possibly set themselves on fire and jump off the school we were at without turning into human road kill. You said you could do it, and normally people would have stopped you but we were too pissed to realize that you could have been killed. You got on the roof with a lighter, set yourself on fire, and then you jumped off. we didn't see where you had fallen and we got scared that you were dead so most of them cleared. A couple of us, myself included, searched the area and tried to find you but we got too tired and it was getting close to sun-up so we had to go back to the school."

"So…I, um, survived that?"

"Unless you're a ghost, yes."

"Damn. Did somebody get it on camera?"

Unfortunately no. this will still be a school legend, though, since nobody should be able to jump off a building that high and not, you know…"

"Die?"

"Yeah." The boy swallowed, looking a little spooked at Harry's utter belligerence towards his near-death.

Harry shrugged, feeling a bit better now that he knew he hadn't done anything too stupid. His magic probably cushioned the fall or something boring like that. He took a bite of potatoes and listened to the boys chatter about classes and whatever else came to mind.

--

End chapter 7

Hey, I updated this one! Can I get some reviews, please, since that is my only sure-fire way to know if people like this enough to read all the way through and consider it worth their time.


	8. Chapter 8

Review reply to Min-Min: There is another piece to the story of what really happened that night that Harry and the other boys don't know about. It'll be important later.

Chapter Eight

The mess hall was low-ceilinged and smoky on one end where the teacher's tables were. Most of them were chain-smokers and the older students sat close to them so they could bum cigarettes when the Headmaster wasn't eating with them to snort disapprovingly over his newspaper or loudly lecture everyone on the benefits of gentlemanly behavior. The floor was probably a tile of some kind…under the grime and black skid marks from sneakers over the years.

There were actually a few windows, but they were high up and on the west side of the court where the food table was so you could hardly sit next to one and 'admire' the ill-kept grounds. How they passed school inspections he didn't know- maybe the Muggle government had just gotten desperate and turned a blind eye to the sullen students and non-existent uniform, which last he checked was a requirement for these kinds of places to create a sense of 'family' with one's classmates. Some psycho had apparently come up with that while drunk or something and now everyone thought it was a great idea. Most of the boys here wore street clothes and just ignored the minimal guidelines for what was acceptable to wear and what was not. No one reprimanded them.

Even though he was hungry, he couldn't bring himself to eat what the cooks had made for breakfast today. It was the same dish that he had eaten the morning of the Third Task, the day Cedric-

He drank some water and rubbed at first his eyes and then his hair. The bruise at the back of his skull throbbed most of the time and sometimes his vision would inexplicably blur or he would feel a little unsteady on his feet, but he didn't really care to visit the school nurse, who was a pedophilic voyeur according to his usual group of friends. Well, he wasn't sure they were friends, but they did a lot of stuff together so he assumed that they were at least close acquaintances. Much to his annoyance, the stories about what he had done at the party had yet to die down. It would seem that the boys here had very little else going on to think about these days and so any news, no matter how old, would linger for a very long time. Well, a week wasn't really a long time, but it could seem that way when you are the topic.

"Is that all you're eating?" Chris softly asked, indicating with his fork the piece of too-dry toast Harry was nibbling at, having lost his appetite at the thought of Cedric.

Harry nodded shakily, resolutely avoiding even looking at the food. As much as he hated being so damnably weak about it all, facing up to what had really happened at that Tournament was still too much to ask from his psyche. He could only thank god that he hadn't been closer to Cedric than tentative friends…he wondered how Cho was holding up. His mind filled with very pleasant thoughts of her and the daydreams remained with him for most of the morning classes and he got a very low grade on the weekly test due to his distraction. Love was a very inconvenient thing indeed.

He wondered when it had become love to him.

--

Returning to his room instead of going outside to sit on the lawn with the other boys, he sat on his bed and stared wistfully at the picture of him, Ron, and Hermione that he had set up. They hadn't written him at all this summer, and even though it had only been a little over three weeks, his birthday was approaching and they almost always sent him at least one letter each. He hoped nothing horrible had happened to them. Eyes widening, a much larger picture of what Voldemort's return could mean flashed into his eyes and he shuddered. He actually began to pray that nothing had and that nothing would happen to them. He couldn't bear it if he lost them; they were like his hands and without them he would be greatly handicapped, not to mention heartbroken. He was a little bit irritated as well that they didn't consider him important enough to bother to write even the briefest of notes.

Resolving to visit Hedwig again even though he already did so every morning to see if she had any mail for him, he pulled on his sneakers, laced them, and opened his door and-

Smacked straight into the Head Boy who had raised one hand to knock on his door, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "Oh!…my head…" Harry bent double; clutching his aching skull and cursing his injury for acting up like this.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" There was panic in the older boy's words as he gently guided Harry back into his room and seated him on the bed, prying his hands away with some difficulty from his head. Harry moaned when he accidentally jabbed at the bruise with a stray finger while feeling around for where the trouble was.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Harry snarled, batting his hands away before they could cause him any more pain. Jordan looked a little hurt and Harry realized that he really shouldn't take his anger and confusion with his friends out on the Head Boy, who was just trying to help. "Sorry." He whispered, carefully reaching up to his forehead where he had hit it against the other's breastbone. The impact had jarred him and made his previous injury act up, from what he could tell. And of course his scar had been a little tingly and generally sensitive ever since the graveyard when Voldemort had-

A spike of pain stabbed his scar and he whimpered, hoping that the Dark Lord wasn't near. His scar usually hurt like this when he was, but there was no one that he could see at the moment who looked like either the face on the back of Quirell's head or the Creature from the grave yard that had introduced him to the agony of the Cruciatus.

Something warm touched his scar and he raised his eyes from where he had been ashamedly picking at his sheets to see Jordan carefully touching his scar which probably looked raw and fresh considering the pain he was in with the tip of one finger.

"Did I give you this?"

"What? Oh, no! I got that when I was baby in the same car crash that killed my parents." He had decided a long time ago that trying to explain to Muggles that he had gotten the scar from reflecting a killing curse onto the same Hitler-esque bastard bent on world domination that had murdered his parents moments before. So car crash story it was.

Jordan flinched and Harry blinked before realizing that his tone had been entirely too cheerful for talking about the death of one's parents. It suddenly occurred to him to ask what the Head Boy had been doing outside of his door in the first place. "Um…did you need me for something?"

Jordan got a little red in the face and avoided his eyes when he peered at him, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. "I just wanted to…want to….well; do you remember talking to me at the party last week?"

He blinked. Chris had said something about him talking to the Head Boy before his stupid stunt that had landed him in his current situation, but he didn't have any memories whatsoever of the evening. "No…but one of my friends said that I went off to talk with you. Did you say something important? 'Cause you could just tell me again, except this time I'll be sober." He grinned, rubbing the back of his head out of habit and wincing when he realized what he was doing.

"N-no. Just, uh, wondering. You know how it is. I'll just be going now." He stood quickly and left before Harry could even ask what was going on. He shrugged and smoothed his hair in the mirror before heading out again and making his way towards Hedwig's nesting place.

--

That night he dreamed of something other than Cedric for once, but woke up with only the faint memory of brown eyes filled with a gentleness no one else had ever shown to him, not even Mrs. Weasley.

He spent breakfast (not eating again because this time he was sure that the greenish tint to the porridge was due to mold) wondering who he had dreamed about, going over a mental inventory before giving up and drinking as much water as he could until his stomach stopped growling and started aching.

Opening his books at his first class, he found a piece of candy marking the page where they had left off yesterday. He blinked but smiled a little at the sight of it, not knowing when the last time he'd eaten Muggle candy. Popping it discretely into his mouth, he sucked on it without getting noticed, enjoying the new taste. He had always wanted to try this kind but the Dursleys were hardly the sort of people to give him money for candy…or anything.

Throughout the day he found candy in his schoolbooks and around his desk and wondered where it was coming from. He even went to his later classes 15 minutes early (achieved by running frantically through the halls and knocking several people over in the process) in hopes of catching whoever it was, only to find the treats already in place.

It crossed his mind that they might be poisoned but he ate them anyway. Paranoia had its place, but he didn't want to become the next Mad-eye Moody.

--

End chapter 8

Wow! An update! I actually don't remember how long its been, but I hope you will all put away your sharp pointy things and forgive me 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks again to MinMin for reviewing!

Chapter Nine

Sucking on a lolly he'd found in his locker, he made his way down the hall to his last class, some boy he barely knew walking beside him and talking about a girl named Amy he wanted to ask out.

He wondered if it would be rude to ask what his name was. It didn't matter, though, because the stranger had taken a different turn and he needed to focus on mathematics right now, even though he was early. Entering, he saw Jordan, the boy he had spoken to and allegedly disappeared with at the party that had finally got him into the good graces of the motley crew that were his classmates. He was at Harry's desk, sliding a thin caramel into the slot for his eraser. Smiling, he crept silently up behind him, leaned in close, and whispered, "Boo!" into his ear.

"Holy shit!" He jumped and whirled around, breathing hard and face red from getting caught. Harry himself was surprised at his luck, since so far Jordan had been super sneaky.

"Hello to you too." Harry winked and then plopped into his seat, resting the heel of one foot against the knee of his other leg. "What's up with the candy?"

"Um…" Jordan blushed harder, looked like he was going to say something, changed his mind, and said, "I should get to class-"

"Yeah, you should, but not until you tell me why. I don't mind or anything, I'm just curious is all."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Well…" His lips curled into a smirk. "It's a good thing I'm not a cat then, isn't it?"

Jordan swallowed and said, "I, well, I didn't know how to apologize for what happened and so these were just a sort of preliminary approach before I worked up the courage to do it properly. Was going to write you a letter or something too."

"Uh, apologize for what?"

"You mean it was okay, what I did?"

"I…"

"Oh, thank god!" And before Harry could ask what was going on, Jordan hugged him, grinned, pecked his cheek, and then sprinted out just as the rest of the class came stampeding in before the late bell could ring, followed by their teacher.

"What the hell?" He muttered, slumping back into his seat, trying and failing to supply a second explanation other than something more-than-friendly occurring between himself and the Head Boy the night of his little stunt.

He was very disappointed with himself to discover that he didn't really mind the idea of something happening between himself and another boy, especially a boy who looked like Jordan. He scribbled his frustration in his notebook instead of copying down the diagrams for homework, realizing his error about half-way through the class.

--

'_I can't afford to have a boyfriend right now.' _

He paced from one end of his room to the other, having already done his homework in an effort to distract himself. The downside was now he had nothing else to do to keep his mind from moving in tired circles, biting his lip and trying to think about Cho instead. And when Cho hadn't worked, he'd tried Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, and every other girl he could think of. Hell, he'd even tried to see Hermione in a romantic light and just couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.

"Fuck…"

"Fuck what?" Someone cheerfully asked, knocking on his now-open door. He turned and saw that it was the boy from the hallway a couple hours ago.

"Hey! How…how did you know where my room was?"

"I just asked the Head Boy. He knows everyone's rooms and has keys to most stuff 'cept the liquor cabinet in the teacher's lounge."

"Ah." Harry nodded, attempting to look normal while his thoughts panicked over Jordan having a key to his room, not to mention knowing exactly where it was. Hadn't he mentioned on his first day that his room was right below his or something? God, he hoped not. Okay, he hoped a little bit but that part of his brain was currently being ignored. He was already weird enough without suddenly becoming gay too.

"So, did you need something?"

"Nope, I just thought that you looked kind of distracted today, and then you didn't show up at dinner so me and the guys got worried. I finished eating first."

"Hey, thanks for being worried for me and stuff. I didn't come to dinner 'cause I'm not really hungry and wanted to get a head start on the homework."

The boy looked at him like he was crazy. "You actually do your homework? Do you even know what kind of kids go to this school?!"

"Yeah…my uncle will murder me if he gets any letters about me from the school so I have to behave myself. It sucks, but its something to do while bored."

"Well, if you wanted to, you could come downstairs with me and sit with us. Everybody is still eating, and you wouldn't be up here all alone, you know, with what the last guy who was left by himself up here did."

"Um, what?" He was officially lost.

"It's just that the last guy who was in this room killed himself, and so did the guy before him, and we like you and don't want that to happen to you."

Harry looked stricken, and then faked a grin. "Don't worry about me; I'm very happy to be alive." He thought about all the times he had laid in bed and wondered what would happen if he decided to join Cedric on the Other Side, but then he would think about his so-called friends, that still hadn't sent him a single letter yet by the way, and how crushed he hoped they would be if he decided to off himself. Looked like he would be sticking it out for at least until the summer was over and he could interrogate his friends about why they'd been ignoring him.

"I'm not saying you do! I'm just, you know, worried."

"Thanks. This might sound kind of weird, and I'm sorry, but…who are you?"

"No problem; assumed I introduced myself, but guess I didn't. I'm Steve from down the hall."

"Cool."

--

Jordan perked up when he saw Harry enter the room beside a boy he knew to be in the same year, heading towards the table with the boys the brunette usually sat with. He wasn't sure if they were friends of Harry's, but he figured they were as close as anyone had gotten to the new boy.

Should he go over and re-introduce himself? No. Harry didn't like that sort of attention, he could tell, and far be it from him to make him upset, as much as he wanted to sit next to him...breathe the same air as him…maybe even brush against him…

Sensing his face heating up, he turned away and tried to pay attention to what his friends were talking about, getting into a debate over which rugby team had a better chance of making any headway in the charts this year.

He barely thought about what he was saying, it all having become routine years ago. It was depressing to think that he'd been attending the same damn school for rebels for years. It looked like the whole 'turning them into fine young men' process took a little longer than the Headmaster wanted to own up to. God, he hated it here, but he now had some dim hope for the future. Harry hadn't pushed him away in that classroom, had he? Even though he had only kissed his cheek, he still liked to think that what had occurred between them in the park the day Harry pulled that stunt after he'd been forced to go back to school to attend to his rounds had meant something. Maybe Harry really did remember him and was just too embarrassed to let him know. Hell, he'd be embarrassed too if he'd had sex with a near-stranger in a college park, no matter how well they'd hit it off.

--

End chapter 9

Haha! Jordan is a wuss…kinda. Review because I need feedback!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

It wasn't too hot out now that the sun had set, so he decided that a quick walk around the premises before the gates closed at curfew couldn't hurt. Why was the curfew at 8 o'clock anyway? He understood that this was a center for troubled youth, but that was kind of extreme for teenage boys. Sighing, he left the school grounds and whistled for Hedwig. A minute or two of waiting later she flew into his field of vision, and he noted that there was no message attached to her talons. She landed on his outstretched arm and he stroked her, enjoying her soft coos and nips at his fingers when he rubbed her feathers in the wrong direction by accident, ruffling them.

"Sorry." He whispered, fixing them before she had to. She made a happy noise and fondly ran her beak through his hair, which was getting greasy since he'd neglected to wash it lately. The showers were disgusting, and he couldn't help but feel that he was cleaner staying away from them than using them. Hedwig didn't seem to mind, though, and expertly removed a few tangles and a leaf he hadn't realized was in it. When he had fifteen minutes left, he sadly left her company and headed back to the facility, getting inside just in time. A glare from the kitchen lady closing the gates let him know that his close call was not appreciated. He would have to keep better track of time next time, if he didn't want the staff to hate him.

His room was a hallway away when he realized that he wasn't the only one heading that direction. Slowing and bending down while pretending to tie his shoe, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at whoever it was while they passed him. He stifled a gasp when he saw that it was Jordan- oh god, he was coming back!

Jordan came to stand a few feet away from him, breathing a little heavier than a casual stroll through the school's corridors called for. Harry didn't look up, hoping that if he ignored him the beating of his heart would go down.

"Harry."

No use pretending that he couldn't see him now. "Yes?" he looked up briefly, to be polite, before going back to tying the fourth knot on his trainers. There was a pause, then Jordan sighed.

"Um, I was just wondering if…"

"If?" Unable to find an excuse to sit on the floor anymore, Harry rose to his full height, which really wasn't much, and did his best to not look like he was about to have a heart attack for reasons unknown to him. Images flashed through his mind, the only thing in common amongst them being the conspicuous lack of clothing and the presence of both himself and the boy standing in front of him. And then he remembered being surrounded by cleansing pain, in the form of bright flames that burned his eyes as much as his skin to look at. And finally, he felt the sickening sensation he had felt at that fateful Quidditch game last year when he'd encountered Dementors while playing against the Hufflepuffs and fallen such a long way down, nothing beneath his foot or about him but air, clouds, and the freezing feeling of having your heart and soul squeezed into mush-

He swayed on his feet, and then toppled, eyes rolling back in his head.

Jordan's startled, and frightened, cry of "Harry!" didn't even register. There was nothing but soothing darkness about him now, although it was awfully cold.

--

Chewing his lip, he paced the whole length of the nurse's office and then swiftly turned around to repeat the action, much to the irritation of the middle-aged woman who was seated at the registration desk in the office. In an adjacent room Harry was lying on a bed while the nurse herself wafted smelling salts in front of his nose. They had been very thankful to him for catching the 'poor love' before his head could impact with the ground, but it had been a close call since he really hadn't been expecting him to just pass out on him while he was trying to think of a way to ask him out.

He wondered why he had fainted in the first place. Was he tired? Did he have some kind of health condition? Or had it been something he had done or said that had set him off? He'd had some pretty harsh rejections before, but if he was the reason for Harry's little fainting spell, there was little hope that he'd be able to snag a date with him.

From the room came some soft coughing, and then Harry's hoarse whisper for some water. He almost dashed into the room, but restrained himself. Heartache aside, he didn't want to make him faint again. Just in case he'd caused the first one.

"Who brought me in?" Harry whispered, and he took that as his cue to leave, closing the door soundlessly behind him.

--

Head and joints aching, he was sent back to his room. He managed to walk the distance without collapsing, of which he was very proud, but he was a bit preoccupied with what he'd suddenly remembered. He was a little hazy still on why he wasn't currently a pile of ashes, but it had something to do with a blast of water that had appeared out of nowhere and soaked him to the bone. His skin seemed to heal itself, and it had felt awful- like he was being pulled apart and made back together out of snail's slime. He shuddered, sticking the key to his room into the lock and entering. He left the door open when he felt how hot his room was, and changed in the toilet that connected to his room to the room beside his.

Lying down, he massaged his knees and wondered who had brought him to the nurse's office. He sort of remembered talking to someone before everything got freezing, not to mention dark, but couldn't remember who. All he remembered was that they'd smelled lovely, no matter how strange that one observation may have been.

He closed his eyes, trusting himself to drift off eventually to the distant rumbling of the Muggle power generators and the hum of hundreds of air conditioning systems. Next door he could hear muffled, but distinctly feminine, noises interrupted with thumps and bangs. At least there were some students here who were having a decent summer. Behind his lids the recovered memories played back slowly and he nearly fell out of bed when he recognized the face connected to the body that had taken his virginity.

It was Jordan.

--

End chapter ten

Sorry it's been a while! I actually kind of forgot about this…(blush)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"How do you think Harry's doing?" Hermione asked, twirling her quill into her hair as she re-wrote her Transfiguration essay for the third time. Across from her, sprawled on the floor before the dusty sofa she was seated on Ron was playing with a few of his animated chessmen.

"I'm sure he's fine. He hasn't had any problems that I know of over the summer since that thing in 2nd year."

She didn't look reassured. "Yeah, but I still feel kind of bad about not being allowed to write him."

"Listen-" She could tell from his tone that he was starting to get a little irritated with her and winced accordingly. "Harry's a sturdy bloke. No matter what happens, he can handle it or even if he couldn't, Dumbledore would know and send somebody to go take care of it."

"Okay." She reluctantly went back to her latest version of Transfiguration theoretic. Despite the vast amount of dust and creepy Dark Magic books in the Black family library, there were some very rare and useful textbooks that you couldn't remove from magical libraries because of their fragility.

She was still worried though, even though she knew better than to bring it up again. As soon as she had gotten back from France last week and was sent here, to Grimmauld place, she and Ron had had a huge falling out and only just made up yesterday evening. Since it was early afternoon, she really didn't want to ruin their tentative peace so soon after its creation. She turned the page of her text and scribbled some more notes along the sides of her essay.

00000

Eating the tomato slowly, harry stared down at its yellow seeds and red fluid while it seeped out through the tears he had made in its skin, not really comprehending what he was seeing. The cafeteria was louder than usual today, since there was a rugby game or something on later that day that they were going to be watching since their team was battling the team from another school, but Harry didn't really remember what rugby was so he didn't feel the same enthusiasm his classmates felt.

Jordan wasn't at breakfast today, and it wasn't like he could ask where he was, since last he checked the older boy never missed a meal like most teenaged boys. And yet he wasn't here, and Harry was feeling his absence keenly. He hoped the older boy wasn't mad at him for fainting on him last night, and therefore avoiding him.

Something wet hit his face and he cleared his eyes to notice that he had practically murdered the tomato, turning it into an unrecognizable pile of mush and the liquid had been some juice that his fork had knocked into the air. Grabbing a napkin, he wiped off his face and then got up, saying to his friends (?) that he was going to go get a book from the school library, which was pitifully small by the way.

Heading towards the nearest bathroom, he removed the last of the sticky mess. In the mirror above the sink he could see Jordan smoothing his hair, so he quelled the nervousness tangling with that curious heat in his lower belly and spoke up.

"Good morning."

Jordan jumped and turned to look at who had said that. Harry waved, feeling a little ridiculous. Jordan's face was redder than the tomato he had sort-of eaten for breakfast, so Harry asked, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah." He licked his lips, looked away, and then made to leave saying, "I gotta go to class." When he brushed past him, Harry grabbed his arm and said, "Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes and last I checked you didn't have anything going on right now."

Jordan swallowed, looking at the floor. "Jordan?" Harry whispered it, feeling that anything louder would somehow be a mistake at this time. "Jordan, what's wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

He didn't answer, but Harry could swear that he felt a slight tremor go through the other boy. "Jordan?"

"You passed out when I tried to talk to you last night."

"Yeah. So?" He really wasn't seeing the connection here.

"Well, uh, you obviously didn't want to talk to me and so-"

Harry blinked at him and Jordan suddenly realized how stupid this sounded. "Er…"

"I passed out last night because I suddenly got some kind of brain overload. It had nothing to do with me not wanting to see you. Besides, I think we've both already seen quite a bit of each other to be so damned nervous." Feeling bold now, he leaned in and gently kissed his face, very close to his mouth. The brunette's eyes got very wide and he actually blushed before tilting his head down carefully and kissing him on the lips, eyes sliding closed after Harry's did. He wanted to move closer, but was a little afraid to make such a strong move so soon. Besides, Harry didn't seem to have a problem pressing closer all by himself and opening his mouth to suck on his upper lip.

It usually didn't tingle like this when he kissed people, not that he was complaining. Behind his eyelids his mind went into some strange sort of euphoric stage and without thinking or even being aware of it he wrapped both arms tightly around him and moved their bodies together as close as humanly possible, raising a hand to cup the back of Harry's head. Suddenly he realized that his lungs were screaming for air, so he released him and gasped for breath, sighing when Harry kissed his jaw and then his jugular, the faint sensation of teeth brushing his skin making him shudder and feel more than a little light-headed. What was this? It was like he was being electrocuted slowly, and enjoying it.

"Harry…"

"Hm?" Harry was stroking the shell of his ear with the tip of a finger, and feeling like heaven in his arms. He tightened them, enjoying the combination of flesh and bones covered with cloth surrounded by his own limbs. One of Harry's feet was standing on his, and his other was pressed toe-to-toe with his.

"What does this make us?"

Harry made a humming noise, moved his head, and whispered into his ear, "I don't care. What do you want us to be?"

"Um…I don't really have a word for it." He blushed again, toying with a piece of Harry's almost too-thick hair and remembering how good it had felt that one night in the park when he'd tangled his fingers in it while trying to find something, anything, to grip.

"Well, we seem to have started this relationship backwards with sex first, and getting to know each other afterwards, so I am kind of at a loss about where to go from here. Should we stage a 'first meeting' and 'first date' too?"

Jordan laughed and kissed the top of his head. "I wouldn't mind the date."

"Okay. So…we're keeping this casual and then working our way up from there?"

"That sounds good to me."

"Good." Harry let himself enjoy the hug a few more minutes before pulling away and explaining himself, "Class starts in two minutes and I need to get my book bag. See you at lunch!" and with that, and a final very quick kiss, he dashed off in the direction of the stairs.

Jordan remained where he was, feeling like he had been on the moon and now gravity had slammed him back to earth without so much as a by-your-leave. The feeling of electrons racing through his blood lingered faintly, though, and made him smile for hours afterwards and answer any questions directed towards him incorrectly.

00000

"So you're gay?" Steve took a big bite of his apple, munching loudly and spraying harry with a little of the juice from it as he chomped away.

"Um…I hadn't really thought about it like that. I guess this makes me gay, though I had this massive crush on this girl from my school. Hell, I still think she's pretty but now that her boyfriend…" He couldn't say it. Not yet.

Steve seemed to have picked up on his mood swing and comfortingly patted his shoulder. "Hey, I don't care if you're gay or not. My mom says people are born with their sexuality, and I still think you're nice and all."

Sniffling against his will and mentally berating himself for being so weak, Harry forced a smile and said, "Thanks Steve. Your mom is probably right, although I've never thought about it like that before. I always thought it was more like a shift in the way you think, or maybe some day a guy or girl got curious about their own kind."

"I'm sure that happens too. I have a lesbian aunt."

Harry grinned and poked him in the ribs. "I think everyone but me has a lesbian aunt."

00000

"So…about that date." Jordan leaned against Harry's door after closing it behind himself.

Harry turned around and smiled at Jordan, saying, "Sure. Just let me finish this paragraph and then we can go." He scribbled down the rest of his paper on the World War II, and then shoved his feet into his sneakers. Neither of them had bothered getting dressed up, since they saw each other in natty school uniforms all the time anyway, so harry was just wearing his smallest pair of jeans (the ones where he could wear a normal-sized belt with instead of a hand-made drawstring), although the excess fabric still practically covered his feet. He just hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself by tripping on something.

"Where are we going?" He asked when Jordan led them downstairs and towards the front doors.

"Just a tour of the grounds, and I convinced the lunch ladies to give me some crisps. I tried to get sandwiches, but she said something about a pretty face only getting someone so far, whatever that was supposed to mean."

Harry snickered and accepted the open bag of crisps, enjoying the first non-sweltering day as they wandered around the grounds, Jordan making up crappy stories about the various 'monuments' (piles of mud, trash cans, graffiti) and mimicking their poncy history Professor.

Overall, Harry thought that the best part of the date was when Jordan decided that he hadn't gotten enough crisps and attempted to remove them from his mouth with his tongue. Hell, it would have been perfect if they hadn't walked around the whole building together and gotten cat-called by Steve and some of the other guys Harry ate with.

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End chapter 11

This is for you, Edle.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Harry awoke to his alarm clock, startled at the harsh noise it made. He'd been waking up before it from nightmares for so long that he had forgotten how irritating it was. Slipping an arm out of his covers, he hit the 'off' button and sighed when the cacophony ceased. His relief did not last long when he realized that someone else was in the bed with him, spooning against his back to be specific.

Freezing in the middle of getting his legs out of the sheets, he twisted his head around and saw a tuft of thick brown hair sticking up from under a pillow. There was the top of a tanned back; with the beginnings of a strong muscular shape from what he guessed was from rugby or football, a flash of knee farther down, and finally a large foot that most likely made him a little clumsy. He smiled fondly despite himself. There was no pain in his lower back, and he was still wearing his underwear and the t-shirt he'd gone to sleep in, so Jordan must have snuck in while he was asleep.

Sitting up and sliding carefully out, he contemplated waking the other boy so he could have time to get ready for classes as well. He didn't have the heart to disturb him, so he went to the showers, finished in record time, and returned to his room to see Jordan groggily pulling on his uniform, which was crumpled on the floor.

"Good morning." He smirked when the Head Boy jumped, whirling around to catch sight of Harry tucking his materials into his book bag.

"I…uh…sorry about last night-"

Harry kissed him, pulling back before he could respond and winking. "I thought it was cute. And if you don't hurry up and put those clothes on, we're going to be late. See you at lunch!" He closed his door behind himself, leaving Jordan standing shirtless and alone in his dormitory, lips parted and gleaming from Harry's Chap Stick.

The late bell rang, but he didn't hear it.

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He had two weeks before September 1st, and Hedwig had flown into his room with a letter from Hogwarts with the usual list of supplies and books that he would need for his fifth year. It was more than usual since he had his OWLS this year, and he counted more than three reference texts that were marked for both OWLS and NEWTS. Shaking his head and inwardly cringing at the thought of all that homework, he re-folded his letter and tucked it into his mattress where he knew no prying Muggle eyes would find it.

It was just in time, too, since the door opened without preamble and Jordan made a running jump for him, landing half on top of him and wrestling him around so they were nose-to-nose. He kissed it, smiling down at him and asking, "Did'ja miss me?"

"I'd miss you more if I knew where you were." He shouldn't, but he was a little paranoid of Jordan getting sick of him and finding someone else to romance when Harry got boring. Lord knew he was mopey enough to drive anyone to-

Jordan kissed him soundly. "Head Boy business; some of the younger years who didn't realize yet that fighting will only make them have to endure this next year got into a brawl, and I had to help break it up. Our Grammar Professor got decked in the eye, but I don't think anybody is really going to feel sorry for that bastard." They shared a laugh, and Harry forced his paranoia down, enjoying the simple pleasure of being held without it leading up to anything else. They'd 'consummated their relationship' last month, although it hadn't really been the first time, but Harry still considered it the first since his memories of their experience in the park were a little hectic to sift through.

"Jordan, where do you go to school when you're not here?"

"Well, the past few years I've had to attend delinquent facilities with educational benefits, but since I got my act together this year my parents are sending me to University. I still have to pay for half of it and promise to behave, but I'm looking forward to going. I'm sick of school, and want to get it over with."

"Very nice. Are you studying abroad at all, or remaining in good old England?"

He bit his lip, eyes distant. "I haven't really thought about it, but I kind of like the idea now that you've mentioned it. I do want to go to America sometime to see my mother's relatives, since she's from there originally, but I'm not sure I want to go to school there."

Harry tilted his head, catching a strand of Jordan's hair and running it through his hands this way and that, admiring the auburn streaks the sun amplified. "Where, then?"

"Heh, Australia if I can."

"Really?"

"Ha-ha, no! I'm not interested in kangaroos." Harry rolled his eyes.

"There is more to Australia than that, you know."

"Yeah, I do, but I still don't like kangaroos. What's in Brazil?"

Harry almost slipped up and said 'dark wizards', but caught himself in time. "I don't know. I was never one for geography." He snuggled down further into his pillow, looking up at him from under his lashes. "What are your parents like?"

"They're alright." He shrugged. "My mom's really social, so she organized a lot of clubs back in my town. I guess I acted out some to get her attention, and she seemed really embarrassed of me. She tells her friends that I'm at rugby camp in the summer, or so my sister told me. You can never tell with Vicky, though."

"Vicky's your sister?"

"Yeah. She's…thirteen now I think."

Harry snickered. "You don't know?"

"Shut your mouth, I have a lot of other things to keep track of!"

"Pfft, yeah right." Harry grinned. He was tickled for that, and ended up in a tangled mess on the floor, begging for mercy.

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Harry felt like crying, but convinced himself that that would be a very childish thing to do. And didn't losing one's virginity define the crossing into manhood in some countries or something? Deciding that it wasn't worth the effort of remembering, he continued packing his trunk, running his fingers along the packet of letters from Sirius that he'd gotten during the school year. He wondered why he hadn't been written over the summer by anyone. He was kind of peeved about his friend's silence, actually, and wasn't going to let them think he hadn't noticed. Dumbledore was most likely behind it.

Patting down the last of his shirts so he'd have room for his socks, he began folding the socks into tight little balls, wiping some gathering moisture from his eyes with his sleeve. He nearly snagged it on his glasses, which he had pushed up onto his forehead to keep his long fringe out of his eyes. He had been growing it out to cover his scar, since the Wizarding reporters were more than a little persistent when it came to stalking him and his scar was the most recognized feature of his.

He had just tucked his sneakers into it after deciding to wear his boots tomorrow morning when his door opened, and someone slipped their arm around his waist. He could smell Jordan's cologne and sighed, knowing how badly he was going to miss it.

"Hey…"

"Hey. You're done packing already?"

"Yeah, I didn't have anything else to do while you were helping Miss Gilman organize the library. Did she rant about her ex-husbands again?"

Jordan chuckled. "Yeah, I lost count of how many men she's divorced by now. She's dating some bastard right now who probably never showers since she says his hair is so greasy that it sticks to his forehead and looks like worms."

Harry shuddered. "Ugh, that is so disgusting! I didn't need to know that, J."

"Yes you did. I need to remind you about how gross other guys are so you'll stay with me forever." He gave Harry's stomach a squeeze, resting his face in the curve of Harry's neck.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know what Jordan meant by forever, since he was going to college in Germany, as his parents had decided, and he was going to Scotland for 'private school' as he'd called Hogwarts when his boyfriend asked.

"Um…"

Jordan kissed his neck. "I know we'll be far away from each other, but I still really like you and I hope that you'll write me and maybe call me on the phone on weekends."

"Oh, y-yeah, of course. Of course I'll write you, although I don't know if I'll be able to call."

"Heh, does your school forbid cell phones or something?"

"Yeah, actually. Its 'a distraction from our studies'."

"God, seriously?" He pulled away and turned Harry around so he could see his face and make sure he wasn't laughing at him.

"Yes. My school is pretty old-fashioned. We still write with quills and shit."

"But, what if, like, a student wants to call their parents?"

"We're allowed to write them." He shrugged. "I think its stupid, but the school is great besides the whole 'no technology' thing. But give me your number anyway, so in case I am away from school and find a payphone or something to use."

"You got a pen?"

He sifted through his book bag, and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil. "Here."

Jordan scribbled down his number, and then sketched a heart next to it. Harry smacked his arm and he stuck his tongue out. "I'm allowed to be girly around you if I want."

"Says you." He gave into his urge and hugged him tightly. "I'm gonna miss you _so much._"

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End chapter 12

Ta-da!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The station was windy, and Harry tucked his chin into his sweater in a last-ditch effort to keep his lips from freezing together. It was September, still technically summer, so why was it so damned cold?

He growled and waited around for the train, tapping his foot and slowly curling farther and farther into himself until when someone tapped his shoulder he nearly screamed. Whipping his head around, a curse on his tongue, his vision was enveloped with an eye-burning combination of brilliant red hair and a maroon sweater. Before he could make any sound of recognition, Ron hugged him tight enough to lift him an inch or two from the ground. He noted with an emotion near disgust that Ron had grown what looked like yet another six inches over the summer, further extending their height difference.

Realizing mid-hug that this was the same friend who had ignored him all summer without explanation, he squirmed out of the embrace and stomped on his foot, hard.

"Ow! What the bleeding hell was that all about?!" Ron hopped, trying to nurse his injured foot and maintain eye-contact simultaneously. Harry spared a second to wonder if that sort of act would get him an audition with a circus before yanking his mind into focus.

"You didn't write me a single damned letter all summer, that's what this is about."

Ron's mouth formed an 'o' of recognition.

"I'd like an explanation, please." He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, unwittingly doing a very good imitation of Mrs. Weasley when someone had eaten all the cookies.

"I, uh, Dumbledore said that it was too dangerous." He put his foot on the ground, winced, and avoided Harry's eyes. The train screeched and hooted as it slowly pulled into the station, coming to a gentle stop and releasing steam throughout the station. Children rushed to board it, whilst others lingered to either bid farewell to their parents without being embarrassed in front of their school friends or did some last-minute luggage checking to make sure nothing had been forgotten. He could hear several anguished cries, knowing that more than one child had forgotten some essential item.

"Too dangerous? Why, do I have Death Eaters stalking me or something, just dying to read my mail? I thought you were a bit more of a loyal friend than that, Ron." Not waiting for Ron's answer, he huffed, grabbed his trunk, and boarded the train without further comment.

Shuffling down the hall between laughing and shouting fellow students, the depression that he'd been slowly shoveling into the back of his mind broke free and flooded his mind with horrible scenarios in which he never saw or heard from Jordan again, that Jordan had gone off and met some nice German girl to have babies with or something, and would forget all about the short kid he'd said he was in love with.

Encountering an empty compartment, he claimed it and hefted his trunk onto the racks above the seating, stashing Hedwig's empty cage beside it. His owl had agreed with his suggestion that she fly ahead of him to the school instead of spending the journey cooped up in a cage and listening to teenagers chatter inanely at each other.

He sat with a sigh, and then kicked off his shoes restlessly, curling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. The train jerked, and then gently began moving forward. He buried his head between his knees and sobbed dryly, no tears coming to relieve the agony in his heart matched by his throat as it spasmed and tightened with the effort of holding his sobs inside. It wouldn't do for some stray student to pass by his compartment and see the Boy Who Lived crying his heart out, would it?

The door softly clicked open, and he froze. A hiccup worked its way out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he blushed behind his arms.

"Hey, are you okay, kid?" It was a girl's voice, one he recognized immediately and desperately wished he didn't. he heard her coming closer, so he nodded his head in answer to her question, choking out in a strangled voice that he couldn't recognize as his own, "Yeah, just exhausted."

"Oh…okay. Do you want some coffee or something? The snack cart is coming through this car right now, I could get you some…?" her voice was hopeful, and he wondered why he hadn't perceived this side of her before.

Deciding that keeping his face tucked into his body was hiding his identity and fooling her into being nice to the boy who had gotten her boyfriend killed, he raised his head, blinking away tears, and met her eyes. After all, wasn't Gryffindor the house of Courage?

"Harry?" she'd gotten taller, he could see, and grown her hair out to wear it in a pair of thick braids. The black locks gleamed blue in the subtle lighting of the compartment's sunlight, highlighting her face.

"Hey Cho." He tried to smile but felt like his mouth was being torn at the corners and gave up, "I don't need any coffee, thank you for caring." He was proud that his voice had not cracked and he hadn't burst into tears mid-sentence. Mission accomplished, he retreated back into his knees and did his best to conceal how distraught he was. She didn't leave like he'd thought she would, but sat beside him instead.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just…tired and kind of emotional. I'll be fine by the time we get there." Since he didn't want to be rude, he slowly lowered a leg to the floor so half his face was revealed and leaned his head on his forearm, staring despondently out the window. It had been less than two hours since he and Jordan had parted ways at the station, but he felt like he was being torn in half. How was he going to make it through the madness of reporters curious to see how he reacted to exam pressure, the exams themselves, and most likely prejudiced classmates? No one would believe him if he said that Voldemort was back, too caught up in the Ministry's lies of safety. He could only hope that Ron and Hermione would believe, or at least not send him to St. Mungo's to have his head examined. That would be an embarrassing event to have recorded on his record.

"Alright, if you say so." She settled down, making no effort to leave. In fact, she dug into her dress pocket and pulled out a chocolate frog, tearing off a leg and offering it to him. He accepted, and allowed the chocolate to melt in his mouth. He'd missed magical candy- it had a taste that he couldn't find in any kind of Muggle food. And the chocolate lifted him just a little out of his depressed mood.

She seemed to notice that it had helped, and bit off the head before offering him what remained of the frog. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, and she shoved it into his hands. "Take it, you goof."

"Okay, okay. Thanks." He did manage to smile, delicately nibbling on a foot. She smiled back, bumping his shoulder with hers and crossing her ankles.

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Hermione shook her head, raising her hand to stop Ron's tirade on what a brat Harry was being just because they hadn't written him over the summer. It was just close to three months that they were apart, and then they spent the rest of the year practically on top of each other! So what was the problem?

"Ron, you know what those relatives of his are like…he might have needed some kind of encouragement that somebody cared about him, and was waiting for some letters to reassure him. When we didn't send any, he must have assumed that we didn't care about him anymore, and is subsequently pissed off at us. We should give him some space, and then apologize when we arrive."

Ron's mouth dropped open, and Hermione asked him what was wrong with him. "You cursed!"

"I did not! When?" She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, a sardonic eyebrow rising.

"You said 'pissed'." He grinned triumphantly when she flushed.

"S-so?"

"You've never cursed before. You said it wasn't intelligent or lady-like."

"Well, then I changed my mind." She picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet she'd purchased at the station, snapping the pages open and engrossing herself in an article about the Holyhead Harpies and why their woman-power attitude was a threat to the Wizarding community's domestic balance. She sneered at their lack of progress, disgusted that traditional 'women's roles', although no longer enforced, were still preferred amongst the male Wizarding population. She would have to make sure to beat that out of Harry and Ron for the sake of their future wives.

Ron snickered at her, but wisely silenced himself when she glared at him over the paper. The memory of the hormonal beast inside of her that had surfaced at the Yule Ball was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn't going to risk waking it.

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Harry and Cho didn't say anything the entire train ride, and he didn't mention to her when they arrived that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, nor that she was rather heavy when she leaned all her weight on him like that.

She did, however, peck his cheek and whisper, "I hope you feel better now. I do." She then walked away, towards her usual passel of girl friends wearing their blue ties and giggling about something undoubtedly incomprehensible to males.

Shaking his head and smiling thinly, he shyly made his way to where Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were gathered.

"Hi guys."

"Oh. Harry!" Hermione sprang at him and hugged him, unintentionally filling his mouth with her bushy hair. "Were you really that upset? I would have written you, but I spent the first half of my summer in France and the second with the Weasleys, and they were watching us like hawks so we couldn't even send you a note."

He hugged her back, mouthing 'sorry about your foot' to Ron over her shoulder. Ron shrugged, grinning.

"I'm fine, Hermione, really. I was just kind of upset at first, but more confused than upset."

"B-but you were crying." Her thumb brushed the soft skin below his eyes and they widened. He had splashed his face with cold water, and cast a few refreshing charms, but apparently the tiny bit of redness remaining in his eyes had been noticeable for her to pick up.

"It wasn't about that." He whispered, and then picked up his things so they could head for the carriages. Hermione's eyes were furrowed for the entire trip, even as they chattered about OWLS and how glad they'd be to play Quidditch again. She was obviously stumped about the cause of his tears, since she knew he wasn't the crying type, but he wasn't going to tell her that he'd found out he was gay and was currently pining for his boyfriend, who was very far away from him right now, on a plane to Germany.

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The Feast was as good as ever, Harry was sure, but it still tasted flat to him. The glares of nearly everyone seated at the student tables was wearing heavily on his faint good spirits that he'd regained on the carriage, and he wondered for the thousandth time how he was going to handle it when he really was a having a bad day.

They had two new first years, which some kind of record for smallest ever according to Fred and George, but you never could be too sure with those two. Speaking of the Twins, they were whispering to each other and arranging their food into piles that looked distinctly like edible blue prints for something. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The food vanished, and the chatter began to die down when the Headmaster stood and walked around the Head Table to stand behind the podium that appeared.

"Students, I would welcome you back for another year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He smiled and twinkled his eyes down at them all, the very picture of a magnanimous grandfather. "We would like to introduce a new professor of Defense against the Dark Arts, the Ministry's High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge!"

There was polite applause, and Harry craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the lady wearing a pink suit that would have looked decent on a woman a third of her size. Her face closely resembled a toad's, and he cringed knowing that this woman was going to be teaching the student body how to defend themselves when in danger. She looked like she'd rather read them Muggle fairy stories.

Dumbledore began to change the subject, to remind the students of what was and was not allowed, when someone cleared their throat with an annoying 'hem hem' noise. Everyone turned their head to look at Umbridge, and caught her standing and approaching the podium. The Headmaster looked exasperated, and moved to the side politely to let her speak.

"Hello children!"

The older years looked offended, and Harry had to hide his grin behind his hand, disguising it as a yawn.

"I would like to impress upon you that the Ministry is very interested in how the minds of the future are being educated, and I am here to review what you are being taught and who is teaching you, so no undue influences will be present to worry you with what is the business of adults, and to ensure that no excessive information is filling your minds. I hope we shall all get along, and I would love to be considered as much a friend as a professor." With the most simpering smile Harry had ever seen, she backed down and returned to her seat.

No one clapped, and Harry began to feel that perhaps not all of the foreboding feelings he had about this year would be proven wrong.

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End chapter 13


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

As expected, the sunlight hit him straight in the eyes an hour before his alarm was set to go off. Grabbing the nearest fold of coverlet, he yanked it over his eyes and used it to muffle his groan. He'd lain awake in bed until he had despaired of ever falling asleep, worrying over his peers and that freakish new Professor from the Ministry. Considering the slimy Minister, he wasn't about to trust a woman possibly related to an amphibian.

Hearing Dean get up and slump into the showers, ever the early riser, he decided that he might as well do the same. Rolling out of bed, nearly landing on his arse, he stumbled to his trunk and removed a clean uniform to wear before joining Dean in the showers. Expecting to feel just a tinge awkward as he always did when he was naked with other people, his eyes widened when the feeling didn't come. His mind supplied an image of Maalik, and he choked involuntarily. A bubble of emotion rose in his throat, but he stubbornly pushed it down when Dean looked over at him, unspoken questions in his eyes.

"Had something in my throat."

"Oh." Dean turned back to the tiled wall, soaping his arm pit.

Neville and Seamus joined them in the shower, Neville tripping over the edge of his towel and stubbing his toe. He hissed and cradled it for a moment before going through his morning grooming routine. Harry finished his shower, rinsing the last of the suds from his hair with a grimace at the flowery smell. He'd bought new shampoo, and made sure it didn't have any embarrassing ingredients in it, but somehow it still smelled like Lavender. He smelled like an old lady's garden.

Drying his hair, he re-entered the dormitory and approached Ron's bed with trepidation. Ron was never happy to be awake before ten o'clock in the morning, but he was also grumpy if he missed breakfast so…

Harry gently took hold of his shoulders and shook him lightly. "Ron, Ron! It's time to get up!" Ron's eyes fluttered, blonde eyelashes glinting in the sunlight, and then closed again. He nestled further into his blankets, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ron, if you don't get out of bed in 2 minutes, I'm telling Hermione, and we both know how much she hates laziness."

As expected, Ron shot straight out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom, returning to the dorm a moment later to swipe a uniform. "Do you want me to wait, or meet you down there?"

"Um, do you mind waiting?" Ron's voice was muffled by the door, and Harry nodded to Seamus as he and Dean left for breakfast.

"No. If Hermione is pissed at one of us, she might as well be pissed at both of us." They shared a laugh, and Harry began putting together the books he'd need for today's classes, using his time table as a reference. They had Defense Against the Dark Arts after Charms, and Harry wasn't looking forward to encountering the queen of all things pink and feline before lunch. She'd probably take away his appetite.

Ron emerged from the bathroom, and shouldered his bag with a smile at Harry. He still looked half-dead on his feet, and Harry had to grab his shoulder to prevent him from falling off their bench at the breakfast table. Hermione sat across from them, nibbling on a muffin between turning the pages of some massive volume of knowledge that they were scared to ask the title of. For all they knew it could be erotic literature and they'd never have a clue.

"Good morning boys." She mumbled, snagging a piece of bacon off of Ron's plate. Harry didn't see why he minded, since he had about a dozen pieces left over. Ginny passed him the marmalade as he was buttering his toast, and he smiled absently at her, entirely missing the obsessive grin that she gave back. The sky was gaining brighter color as time went on, and he forgot to eat in favor of admiring it. It took his mind off of the group of whispering sixth years a few seats down who were shooting him glares, not to mention the entire glowering Hufflepuff table.

His morning muses were cut short by the bell ringing, signifying the end of breakfast. Shouldering their belongings, the trio set off for the halls, Hermione dutifully listening to Ron chatter about Quidditch try-outs again and how much he wanted to be a Chaser.

Arriving at Charms, they found their usual seat from last year occupied by Lavender Brown and Padma Patil, heads bent together over a sheet of paper liberally covered with hearts and various romantic doodles. They covered it the second they noticed them, though Harry could have sworn he spied the initials 'R.W.' and 'L.B.' sharing a particularly lacy heart, but he could have seen wrong.

They sat in the bench behind them, and Harry gave up on trying changing the color of his feather after the thirtieth try. Hermione smirked at him, looking rather crafty as she performed the swish and flick out of Professor Flitwick's sight beneath the table, successfully turning his slightly gray father into a brilliant blend of scarlet and azure plumage fit for a tropical bird.

Harry smiled gratefully at her, and resolved to practice the incantation again later when it wasn't affecting his grades. Who knew when a color-changing charm would come in handy?

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Scrawling a letter while they waited for the Professor to emerge from her office, Harry concealed the contents with his arm so his friends wouldn't realize that the letter wasn't addressed to Sirius like he'd said.

He had written half a page, as neatly as he was able, before the soft clicking of heels entered his hearing. She was wearing a pink dress, topped with a cardigan embroidered with kittens. It might have looked half-decent on a granny, but with her squat frame and toad-like visage, the effect was disgusting.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he tucked the letter into his pocket for later, and folded his hands on his desk. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermione sneering down at the textbook that had been magicked onto her desk. The cover was a illustration that would have been far more at home on a young child's book, and the obnoxiously cheerful witch and wizard made her blink.

To make matters worse, Professor Umbridge opened her mouth and metaphorically vomited a speech that was basically portraying her anti-change attitude towards educational materials. 'Children are children, not miniature adults' was also a common theme. Once she finished her unnecessary and enlightening tirade, she assigned them a few chapters to read.

Harry left the class sickened. If this was the kind of thing that the Ministry would consider appropriate for 5th years, then there were going to be some serious consequences if the second war against Voldemort ever required citizen soldiers.

He could feel Professor Umbridge's eyes trained on his back as he left, and a shudder went through him. He could only hope that she hadn't heard the rumors about his ravings of Voldemort's return last year, since they would only make him a target for her to harass. She could try all she liked, but he wasn't going to be brain-washed no matter what methods she used.

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End chapter 14

Sorry it's shorter than usual. I just got back from vacation, and am a little brain-addled.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I went to a Chiropractor, and he says that I am not allowed to eat sugar for a month. So…if I seem moodier than usual, that would be why.

Chapter Fifteen

The words swam before his eyes as his mind drifted away from complex Transfiguration and into the dangerous field of Jordan. He had been away from him for two weeks now, and between detentions from Professor Umbridge for sleeping in class, needing to use the bathroom, and being hungry, Hermione forcing extra class work onto him to 'prepare him for the future', whatever that meant, and strange nightmares, he was about ready to pull his hair out. Or fall asleep on his feet. Either was equally probable considering that his nightmares had been depriving him of more than four hours of sleep a night. He knew his moods were suffering as well, since he had snapped at Ginny for no reason yesterday and Ron had nearly murdered him. He shivered when he remembered the dark mood Ron had been in as well, and the bruises on his upper back and shoulders from when his best friend had repeatedly slammed him into the wall still stung.

He supposed that if Quidditch hadn't been cancelled by that evil toad-lady, then Ron would have had an outlet for his aggression and wouldn't be on such a short fuse. Everyone was either edgy or downright depressed these days, since you really couldn't move around much except in private, and even then it was cramped in the few places not penetrated by the probing High Inquisitor or Filch, whom she'd recruited to keep them in line.

He rested his chin on his fist, and stared out the window at the Forbidden Forest, the trees just tinged with yellow blurring together when he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. Something jostled his side, there was a sliding sound, and then Cho's voice greeted, "Hello Harry. What are you doing way back here by yourself?"

He replaced his frames on his nose and smiled at her. They'd exchanged no words since the train incident, but friendly looks and smiles had been given whenever they saw each other.

"Ugh, trying to muddle through the assigned reading for Transfiguration. Ever since Umbridge started going around doing check-ups on the teachers, they have been giving us a lot of homework."

She laughed, and said, "Yeah, that's for sure. I can't say that I have better things to be doing, though, since I can't do any Seeking. I swear my fingers are itching!" She held them up and flexed them for him to see. He smiled and copied the gesture, finally having a reason for the urge to snatch things that had been cropping up lately. He'd nearly robbed a couple people of random quills, earrings, and even a purse or two in the past couple of days. If it got any worse, he was going to have to start a hobby of some kind that involved catching things.

"Hey, did you want to, you know, do something about our little hand problem together some time?"

"That sounded kind of suggestive, Harry." She smirked at his horrified look as he thought about what he had just said. "But I'll still tag along. What have I got to lose?"

"Um, well, if Umbridge decides that its untoward behavior, then we loses a lot." He stood and tucked his books back into his bag while picking up another to check out from the library so he could look it over tonight. "Do you want to see if we can sneak into the kitchen for a snack?"

"Sure. I'll just be a minute- I need to grab a book quick. Meet you up front!"

They parted, and he endured Madam Pince's glares and stilted lecture about how a library was a place of learning, and his smile was out of place because it destroyed the solemn atmosphere. He thanked her for her time anyway, and shared a private smile with his Inner Brat when she turned just the slightest bit pink. Most of the students didn't realize what a big job managing a huge library like this was, and he had been amongst that majority until Jordan had gotten roped into helping the library staff at their facility, and dragged Harry along for 'company' (needless to say, they'd spent most of the time in between shelving books snogging and only got caught twice!).

Cho emerged from the shelves, waved, and opened her mouth to say something before clamping it closed. She had remembered at the last minute that they were on 'holy ground'. "I'd like to check this book, please." She whispered so quietly that even Madam Pince had to lean forward and strain her ears. She stamped the book, and handed it back to her with a nod.

Harry's mouth dropped open. How come she hadn't gotten lectured? Favoritism, much?

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Hermione stormed into the common room, plunking down on the couch across from them. Harry's eyebrows rose questioningly, but Ron took the more direct route and set down his Chudley Cannon's poster-in-progress to ask her what was wrong. She huffed, opened her mouth, and then choked something out, too garbled to be understood. At first they thought she was going to start crying, and Ron was already shrinking back into the squashy sofa to avoid the female shit-storm of emotions threatening to break out, when she opened her mouth again and an angry growl came out.

Harry joined Ron in becoming one with the sofa, tucking his feet up too for good measure.

"That-that bitch!"

Their mouths dropped open. Hermione _never _swore. Ever!

"W-what?" Harry gathered his composure long enough to ask.

"Dolores Umbridge has made a new edict that no student may remain in the library for longer than two hours at a time, or remove more than 3 books at a time." She practically hissed, fists clenched and body tense from head to toe. They dared to relax a little now that they knew she wasn't going to murder someone they liked, sympathetic statements bursting out of their mouths simultaneously before she made them her next targets of rage; "My god, seriously? She is so evil…why would she make a rule about the library? Is she scared we'll actually learn something if we spend enough time in there?" Ron muttered, mulishly using a piece of spell-o-tape to attach an L to the poster in his lap.

"Because she believes that it is unnecessary. How am I supposed to pass exams like this?" Hermione seethed, sinking into the sofa and grabbing a pillow to hold in her lap like a teddy bear.

"There should be a law against this. Why isn't the Headmaster doing anything about this?" Harry felt kind of betrayed by Dumbledore these days; he was sure he was avoiding him ever since he had refused to let him write Sirius for 'security reasons', refusing to answer any of his questions about whether or not his godfather was safe.

"I'm sure he's going to do something- he's just waiting for the right moment." Harry wished he shared his friend's faith in the Headmaster, but after seeing the man behind the twinkle in those eyes for a brief second after being told that his letters were being intercepted, he just couldn't become that blind again. Adults should never be trusted just because they were older and supposed to protect children, no matter what they said.

Hermione sighed, all fire leaving her eyes. Even her hair seemed to sag, and now instead of furious she just looked depressed. "I'm going to bed, guys. See you tomorrow, okay?"

"G'night 'Mione." Harry patted her arm as she passed, and Ron smiled wanly.

"Things will look better tomorrow, 'Mione. We promise."

Harry couldn't be as sure, and he wondered what this was going to do to the Ravenclaws who practically lived in the library.

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Professor Snape looked about ready to curse the squat woman currently asking him personal questions, and under different circumstances Harry would have been amused or even sorry for the woman. Considering that the woman was Professor Umbridge, resident life-ruiner, he kept a straight face. Besides, if he dared to show a flash of personality, she would probably give him a detention. He had to admit that her finding out about his 'theory' of Voldemort's return hadn't improved his quality of life, and now Draco Malfoy had something new to tease him about. On his new, and very unwanted not to mention meager, sleep schedule he really didn't have the patience for that kind of shit, so he had been steadily ignoring the blonde until he had gotten a couple of confused looks from him. Speaking of Malfoy, he was sitting in the bench next to his, most likely so he could sabotage him and Ron by tossing things into their cauldron or making loud noises, but they were behaving while Umbridge was present like the suck-ups they were.

He tilted his head to check out the 'Slytherin side' of the classroom, seeing rows of menacing students, some quietly working, others simply stirring their potion when it needed to be attended to, and Parkinson and Greengrass, two of the girls who sometimes made fun of Hermione, were passing notes back and forth. His eyes landed on Malfoy and he flinched when he saw the blonde eyeing him, sizing him up like a cat does a bird with a broken wing before pouncing on it. Jordan used to give him that look, right before-

And that kind of thing wasn't safe to think about in class when he wasn't wearing a bulky cloak. No Hogsmeade weekends be damned, he was sneaking out this weekend to track down his boyfriend for some personal time, regardless of the consequences.

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End chapter 15

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	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Just as a by the way, when I first planned this story out, Jordan's name was Maalik but I changed it to Jordan because I liked the sound of it better. However, sometimes I still think of Jordan as Maalik and you might find some typos here and there with the wrong name. If you see the name Maalik, I meant Jordan. Thanks and sorry for the confusion!

Chapter Sixteen

He froze mid-step when Seamus shifted in bed, the pale blue-tinted early morning light revealing that his dorm mate was still asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief, and made sure that he didn't forget his bag before exiting his dormitory, crossing the hall outside to the staircase in record time. Reaching the bottom, he paused to tuck his feet into his shoes and then pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head in case there were some other people awake at 5:30 a.m. who might try to talk to him.

The halls were cold, and he shivered even more when he passed the message board which Umbridge had her various limiting rules posted on. The board was covered, and he knew that she would soon have another one set up, most likely pink and shiny knowing her.

The doors loomed high in the distance, and he picked up the pace, nearly tripping over Mrs. Norris when the cat came pelting around the corner chasing a large rat like the ones he sometimes saw skittering around in dark corners of the dungeons. Recovering his balance, he pressed a hand on the handles of the front doors and pushed so they opened a crack, squeaking on their hinges. He desperately hoped Filch didn't come around and notice the doors opening themselves. Outside of the school, the grass was frosted and the leaves were matted and resembled mud closely.

He made sure to avoid stepping in them, and headed down the long path that would lead to Hogsmeade, where he hoped he could find some way of getting to Germany. He could only hope that the little shack selling port keys along with various other dusty and used magical paraphernalia was still in business, and willing to accept early morning customers.

The walk took longer than usual, and his feet ached at the end of it from stepping on pointy rocks and nearly slipping on patches of wet leaves. His spirits remained high, though, and his stomach felt a little fluttery at the thought of seeing Jordan again in something other than a photograph that couldn't even move.

The town came into view, a light here and there signifying that some people were awake by now, since it was approaching half-past 6 o'clock. He entered, shoes appreciating the cobbled streets to the gravel path. Passing by the familiar shops, he saw a few 'going out of business' signs and heaved a sigh. The students, who constituted a fair amount of the customers to the tiny town, forbidden from entering Hogsmeade was most likely what was hurting the shops. He frowned, and spared a moment to mentally gripe at Dumbledore for not protesting to the toad-lady's decrees.

Much to his relief, the shack was still there and looking just as ready to fall over as it had been last year when he'd spotted it. And it was open! He just gaped for a moment, shaking his head and then opening the door. It stuck for a second, and then the bells tinkled and he was let inside by the stubborn door. The tables loaded with what would have looked like garbage to a Muggle dug into his hip when he bumped it, and he caught a smelly sock that was sliding off towards the floor.

He coughed when he passed through a cloud of dust, looking at the bookshelves filled with a few books and a lot of odds and ends. He even spotted some old dragon tamer armor on a manikin in the corner. He smiled, and then jumped when a hoarse voice asked, "What the hell do you want?"

"Ah!" He placed a hand over his heart, trying to catch his breath, looking around for the source of the voice.

"I'm down here you schmuck." This comment was accompanied by something kicking him in the shin, hard. He looked down and saw a shriveled with age Goblin glowering at him through square spectacles. "Now, what did you want?"

"I, uh, need a port key to Berlin, Germany."

"Muggle or Magical?"

"Muggle. Oh, and about how much is this going to cost." He nervously fingered the 10 Galleons in his pocket and hoped it would be enough. If it wasn't, then he had wasted a perfectly good lie-in for no reason.

"Eh…depends on whether you get a both-ways or one-way."

"Both-ways."

"Then that will be two sickles, if you return it by midnight tonight. If it's late, then I charge half a Galleon for every following day." They were by the table, and the Goblin sifted through the pile of junk with the ease of someone who knew the secret to the organized system it was arranged in, at last removing a dusty traveler's guide to Berlin. It was written in some Scandinavian language, Harry noted, and sighed. A lot of help that was going to be in finding his way around a foreign country; but then again, how hard could it be to find Berlin University?

"Well?" The Goblin snapped, pulling back the port key when Harry reached for it.

"Well what?" Now what was wrong?

"You need to show me money first, kid. I know the youth of today, and how dishonest you can be-"

Harry shoved twice the amount due into his hand. "Can I have the Port key now, please?"

The creature grumbled but handed it over, saying, "The activation word is 'Fatigue'."

He took a deep breath, and then said, "Fatigue." Something sharp hooked under his navel and jerked him forward, filling his eyes with spinning scenery and his mouth with bile. Despite his broom stunts, he really didn't have a very strong stomach for things like this.

Landed with a jerk that knocked him off his feet in a group of bushes in a public park, he hastily got up and looked around to make sure no one had seen that. No one was in the park besides 2 old ladies sitting on a bench and dozing on each other's shoulders. He breathed a sigh, covered his mouth when he felt his stomach lurch, and picked up his bag to try and locate his boyfriend's school, formulating a story about how he'd gotten there as he went, keeping his eyes peeled for anything directing him to Berlin University.

At last he saw a sign, and followed the directions translated by a friendly lady beside him holding the hand of a toddler with her thumb in her mouth.

"Thank you!"

"No problem, kid. Don't get lost, now." She smiled and walked in the opposite direction.

A pleasant five-minute walk later, he arrived at the gate to the school, smiling in relief. "I made it." He whispered, and then entered the campus, getting some weird looks from various students sprawled on the lawn or sitting on benches reading and socializing. He felt a little self-conscious, and began to think that maybe he should have looked harder in his limited wardrobe for a shirt that didn't have any frayed edges. At least his pants fit…

Entering the office, once he asked a passing student where he could find it, he asked, "Hi, um, can you tell me where I can find a student named Jordan Hurley?"

The lady blinked at him, and then slowly asked in a thick accent, "You are English?"

"Oh, um, yeah. You understand me?"

"Yes. I will call his dormitory. Please wait a few minutes." She jerked her head to a bench, and he gingerly sat, crossing his legs, feeling nervous now that he was actually going to do what he'd come here to do.

Ten tense minutes later, someone knocked lightly on the door frame.

"Jah?"

"Jordan!" He stood and smiled cheerfully at his half-asleep boyfriend, whose eyes got huge and his jaw dropped. "H-Harry? Oh my god, you're really here!" He nearly strangled him in a hug, lifting him up a little and swaying side to side, keeping his face buried in his hair. Harry was glad it was clean, even if it did smell like flowers.

"Hey Jordan. Miss me?"

"Hm, you have no idea. You little brat…you didn't tell me you were coming to visit. If you had, I'd have picked you up from the airport or whatever!" He set him down, and kissed his cheek and somehow looking reproachful at the same time. Harry shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I am certainly surprised."

The woman at the desk cleared her throat, making them leap apart, faces red and flustered. "We'll just be, uh, going now. Thank you." Jordan dragged Harry out of the office and rapidly across the grounds towards what Harry guessed was one of the dormitory buildings. Entering and racing up a flight of stairs, then another and another, they arrived at a short hall with three doors on either side. Jordan sighed, and walked them to the farthest door on the left side, sticking in a key and pushing it open.

"Lucky for us, my room mate is away for the weekend seeing his family." The door was shut with a click, and Harry relaxed, knowing that they were alone and nobody was going be making disapproving noises at them.

"I missed you lots, you know." Jordan's voice got quiet, and he gently, almost reverently, touched one of Harry's curls close to his cheek, lifting it and running it through his fingers. "Your hair is softer than I remember."

"Been using a new shampoo. It smells girly, but it does the job." He shrugged, not used to being admired like this and thus slightly unsure of what was a normal reaction.

"I think it smells nice." Jordan leaned down and kissed him properly for the first time in a month. Without needing to be prodded, Harry wrapped his arms around him and responded, eyes closing and mind blissfully blank.

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They had only a few awkward moments throughout the day, but they were easily forgotten and by the time 11:30 p.m. came around, Harry really didn't want to leave.

"Why do you have to go now? Can't you catch a different flight tomorrow? They give refunds, you know…" Jordan was officially whining, curled around Harry on his bed and not letting the younger teen get up.

Harry sighed. "Jordan, if I could stay, I would. But I kind of didn't tell anyone where I was going, and I have mountains of homework. Is it okay if I come next Saturday, though?"

"I am going on a field trip to the Alps with some rich friends. Maybe the Saturday after that?"

"Sure." Harry kissed him, doing his best to distract him so he could get out of the human body bind currently jeopardizing his movement. Jordan loosened up when his toes started to curl, and Harry took advantage of his inattention to shimmy out of bed, leaving a dazed and then pouting boyfriend to look up at him.

"You really have to go, then?"

Harry sighed. "Yeah. See you in two weeks!" He left the room before he could become anymore tempted to stay, and shut the door quietly behind him.

Alone in his dormitory, which smelled nicely of Harry and Harry's shampoo, Jordan whispered, "I love you too."

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End chapter 16

Take it as you will. Oh, and if there actually is a Berlin University (which there probably is), then I mean no harm in using it. I've never been to Germany.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

He actually started to relax, thinking that maybe had noticed or cared that he was gone all day yesterday when Hermione, flanked by Cho and Ginny, appeared in front of the desk he was studying at. Her hands on her hips, she loomed over him and asked in a clipped, polite voice that he knew meant trouble where exactly he'd been yesterday.

"I, um, visited a…friend."

"Oh? Where in the school, since you know that it has always been against school rules to leave without either permission or an escort, did you and your friend spend time together? I searched almost the entire Castle, and only missed a few closets from what I recall, so it must have been some place really special."

He swallowed, and mumbled, "I was in Berlin."

"Excuse me?"

"I was in Berlin, and on a school campus the entire time so nothing bad happened. Are you happy now?"

"Berlin in Germany?" Instead of letting him answer, she continued, "Germany?! Harry, what the _hell _were you thinking? And who do we know that lives in Germany?" Ginny and Cho looked equally as shocked, and he observed a strange look flicker over Ginny's face but didn't think she'd appreciate him asking her what she was thinking about.

"You don't know him. I was sent to a summer school by my relatives and he was the Head Boy there. I went and surprised him with a visit, and we just hung out in his dormitory for the day, talking and catching up on our lives. I don't know what you're so upset about." He shrugged, and pretended to be paying attention to his homework, knowing that it would make her angry enough to tell him what she was really upset about.

"N-nothing happened? Harry, you were gone from sun-up to moon-set, what the hell do you mean it is no big deal?!"

He was suddenly happy he was in a study hall and not the library, since Madam Pince would have chosen now to come over and try to beat them to death with a dictionary.

"I came back, didn't I? And in one piece, too, as you can see." He held his arms out as a demonstration of his uninjured self. A couple, the only other people in the small study room, looked up in interest but soon returned to their business when he glared at them.

She sighed, and waved her hand. Cho and Ginny shrugged and wandered off, Cho mouthing 'we need to talk' before exiting.

"Harry, I didn't know what to think when Ron came downstairs and asked me if I had seen you. We looked, but you hadn't left any notes or told anyone where you were going, not to mention how long. I thought you had been kidnapped by Death Eaters or something worse!"

He raised an eyebrow, and asked, "What could be worse than that?"

"You could have been dead in a ditch somewhere for all I knew, Harry, and that wasn't something I liked even considering as an option. I just…I just wish you wouldn't run off like that again without leaving some kind of notice, or just telling someone when you'll be back." She sat down across from him, shoulders sagging and eyes pleading. He rubbed his temples, and replied, "Yeah, sure. I might as well tell you now, but in two weeks I will be again spending a Saturday with him. The port keys to there are cheap, so I don't need to worry about travel costs."

"Oh, so you used a port key? But I thought you didn't like them?"

"I don't, but I obviously can't apparatate and I can't afford airline tickets, much less somehow get access to a Muggle airport in the first place." She nodded thoughtfully, looking over what he had been working on with mild interest.

"You're writing about Asphodel for this year's Herbology project?"

"Yeah, I wanted to do something a little dangerous." He grinned and winked at her, receiving a roll of the eyes and swat to the arm for his efforts.

"Well, have fun with that. I'm off to tutor some second-years. Ta!" She stood and left the room, robes flaring out behind her. He shook his head. It was the weekend- what was the point of not being required to wear uniforms on weekends if you were going to wear it anyway?

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The Professor droned on and on about god knows what, staring at some spot on the ceiling and not even bothering to acknowledge his 'attentive' students in the least. A lone student was furiously scribbling notes, her hair swaying with the swift strokes of her pen, but the rest of the class was dozing, chewing their erasers, or staring at the same water stain on the ceiling that the professor was. Jordan was currently using his pen to draw over the letters on his shoe so they wouldn't fade, the name 'Harry Potter' spelled out as neatly as one can write on their shoes. He smiled at his handiwork, memories of Harry's last visit still as fresh as yesterday in his mind even though it had been nearly two weeks. It was Thursday, and the weekend had never seemed so tantalizingly close.

Someone slipped a piece of paper onto his desk, and he looked up to see Leo, the guy from the dormitory next to his, staring at him with exaggerated attention. Smiling because Leo was pretty nice to be around most of the time, he unfolded the note and scanned the message.

'Want to go to a film with me and some guys later?'

He wrote underneath it 'Yes' and handed it back with a wider smile. He would like to meet some new people here, people who could take his mind off of how lonely he got these days when Harry wasn't around like he'd been at school. Sure, they hadn't had any classes together, but the knowledge that Harry was in the same building he was had been a constant comfort to him, and he could find some way to see him if he was desperate enough. Maybe he was obsessed? He didn't remember being this attached to his old girlfriends, or the two short-lived relationships he'd had with boys before he set his eyes on Harry that first day he saw him at school.

His eyes brightened when he remembered his careful plans to court him, dashed to pieces by a lot of alcohol lowering his inhibitions about making a move and startling Harry with his sudden affection. What were the odds of someone like Harry liking someone like him, a social screw-up, enough to date him?

The professor had finished speaking, and he quickly transcribed the homework posted on the chalk board onto his notepad before leaving the classroom. He was halfway to the cafeteria when Leo caught up with him, casually bumping their shoulders together.

"So, who's Harry Potter?" Leo was actually from Germany, so he could be a bit hard to understand sometimes.

"Oh, he's my…" He didn't know if Leo was homophobic, and his classmate was about twice as thick as him body-wise, so he finished, "Friend."

"Ha-ha, you two must be close if you're writing his name on your shoes."

"Um, yeah. He's…really special to me." and very much against his will, he blushed brighter than a school girl on Valentine's Day. Leo raised his eyebrows, and then steered him into the cafeteria when he almost blew past it.

"We need to feed you, you know. You're too skinny!" Leo almost seemed insulted with Jordan's figure, looking him up and down disapprovingly. He meekly allowed himself to be steered away from the soups and salads and into the meat section. He didn't know if his stomach could ever stretch enough to fit all the food Leo was 'helpfully' adding to his tray, but he knew he'd find out soon.

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Sifting through his bag, he didn't see the human obstruction in his path before he bumped into it. Mumbling apologies, he moved slightly to the side and tried to keep walking. The obstruction had moved with him, and even dared to chuckle at him when he knocked into him yet again.

Looking up, he saw Draco Malfoy, looking as much of a ponce as usual, just with longer hair than last year. He sighed and resigned himself to being insulted from head to toe before allowed to leave. He crossed his arms, and made an impatient gesture with a few fingers for him to get on with it.

"Well, well, well…"

"Well, well, well what?" God, would it never end? His thought must have shown on his face, since Malfoy suddenly asked, "What bit you in the ass? I'm trying to have a let-down here- show some spirit!"

"I would if I had any spirit to show. This is boring, Malfoy. Can't we go one year without this competitive crap, your dad being a bastard and me hating him regardless?"

"I, uh…what?!"

Harry sighed and shouldered past him, heading around the corner and thoughts going back to his daydreams of re-enacting the Goblin Rebellion of 306 B.C. on Professor Umbridge.

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End chapter 17


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Albus stared at the groves in his desk, dust floating in a beam of late autumn sunlight, one of the last days that the sun would shine so freely he was sure. The Minister of Magic had been putting a lot of pressure on him lately about the continuing search for Sirius Black. They suspected, and correctly, that he knew where the convict was. He had been threatened this morning by Dolores Umbridge with a forced dose of veritaserum if he didn't give up any and all information he had on the Black heir. It was only by reminding her that that was illegal even for her that got him out of that sticky situation.

Unwrapping a lemon sherbet slowly, and with shaking fingers, he contemplated whether a man his age should really be still running around getting tangled in politics like this. He wondered what Gellert would think if he could see him now, how much he had changed since the days of their half-crazed youth. He shook his head fondly, remembering Gellert's plans for a perfect society. Idealism often had horrible consequences, but it was admirable nonetheless.

The note Sirius had sent him regarding his current hide-out in Thailand was short and to the point, his disapproval of being forbidden to contact Harry clear. He stood, and tossed the note into the fire before descending the stairs for dinner. He would deal with him later, but for now he was going to have some pudding.

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Harry sighed when Hedwig shook her feathered head at him. There was no mail from Sirius, so he couldn't even have that comfort. He knew that his godfather was a wanted man and a certain level of security regarding his location was needed, but surely he could send a note once a month or so?

Exiting the owlery, he nearly collided with Cho who had a thick envelope in her mouth as she dug through her purse for something. She lowered her bag and removed the letter, smiling sheepishly and greeting him before brushing past him to enter the housing area for the owls. He caught a glimpse of the envelope's address, and noted that it was to the Diggorys. Just as he was leaving, she called after him, "Oh, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Hermione is looking for you."

"Oh, okay. Thanks!"

"No problem." She smiled and made a noise at her owl when it nipped her hand when she tugged on it's leg too hard.

Flexing his shoulders uncomfortably, he made his way down the steps and out into the frigid winds, wishing that their numbing effect worked on the inside too. Cedric had almost been completely pushed to the side of his mind, and he couldn't help but think that being forgotten was worse than being dead, and Cedric was already dead. He didn't deserve to be obliterated from memory too.

Crunching leaves underfoot, he made his way towards the Castle, deep in thought. Something needed to be done for the students, whose spirits were only getting lower as the days went by, social gatherings more somber than ever when they even managed to get more than five students together without being told off and forced to disperse.

Hermione came out of the doors just as he was reaching the first step, and she grinned when she saw him. It looked more devious than usual, so that could only mean one of two things- Viktor Krum had written her, or she had come up with some new kind of study method.

"Hey, Harry! I have something to talk to you about." Without waiting for him to answer, she attached herself to his arm and practically frog-marched him into the Castle and up to the staircases that went all the way up the main levels. Her nails were digging into his skin even through his sweater, and he almost didn't dare to ask where they were going.

"Um, Hermione, what are we doing?"

"We're just going to have a nice chat with some people, and maybe, just maybe, solve a rather pressing problem."

"Ah." That didn't really throw any light on the situation. In fact it just made him more nervous. He wasn't good with crowds…

They ascended 4 more flights of stairs, and then she was pulling him around a corner, down a hall he'd never been too filled with dust and coated with cobwebs, and then through a door. There were twenty or so students of every House but Slytherin gathered there and talking quietly amongst them until the door clicked shut behind them and Harry suddenly felt everyone looking at him. He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, a nervous gesture he'd had since he was a young child. He used to pick apart the scabs from 'Harry Hunting' injuries while he did it.

"Um…"

"We are all here because we have become aware of a blank spot in our magical education, a very important spot that must be filled in one way or another." Hermione's voice shook a little with nervousness at the start, but became clearer as she continued. "Someone on the teaching staff has deprived us of the knowledge to defend ourselves against Death Eaters, or Dark Wizards with criminal intent. This is unacceptable, and so this meeting has been called to determine how much you are willing to work to get the knowledge you need to survive in this unpredictable world." Everyone was rapt with attention, frozen in their seats. "Who here wants to become a member of a new, and secret, club that will teach Defense against the Dark Arts to everyone who wants to learn them? Can I see a show of hands?"

Everyone raised their hand, and Hermione beamed. "Wonderful! Does anyone have any initial questions before we get onto other things such as a name for the club and a proper meeting place?"

A second year Harry wasn't familiar with raised his hand. The boy was unfortunate to be seated in front of Fred and George Weasley, who had dyed his hair as red as theirs without him noticing. "Um, who will be teaching us?"

"Harry of course. He's had real experiences with Dark Wizards, and knows what spells to use and how."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He held up his hands, hoping that she was kidding or something. Sure, he'd dueled Voldemort a couple of times, but that didn't make him a defense expert, top of the class with every other teacher before now or not! "Hermione, I wasn't consulted about this, and I really don't think I have the skills needed for a position of leadership like this-"

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry. What greater defense experience could any of us have that could compete dueling with the Dark Lord himself and making it out alive?"

Harry winced when several mouths dropped open, and most of the girls gasped, hero worship blossoming inside no doubt. He sighed.

"God, fine! But this is not a willing sacrifice on my part." He leaned back in his chair, glaring at the wall while hearing the smothered whispers going around. Someone else raised their hand, and Hermione nodded at them. It was a Hufflepuff, Zachery or Zacharias or something.

"I'd like to know what really happened the night Cedric died." Every other student in the room nodded, looking intently at Harry.

Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking up, "In the maze, Cedric and I reached the cup at the same time, and agreed to grab it at the same time. Turns out a Death Eater had somehow gotten a hold of the Cup and turned it into a port key that led to a grave yard containing the remains of the Dark Lord's father, which were used in a ritual later to revive him. A Death Eater killed Cedric the second we appeared, giving him not a moment to even try to defend himself or for me to help. They took some of my blood for the ritual, Voldemort-" The students flinched, "dueled me, something happened with our wands when two of our spells accidentally collided, and I was able to make a run for the Cup and Cedric's body while he was distracted. Cedric's death was completely unpreventable, and it makes me sick every time I think about his murderer, the same man who has caused so much pain for the Wizarding population, still at large. You-Know-Who is a monster who is very much alive, thanks to what happened during the Third Task's aftermath, and I would recommend learning at least the basics of Defense for every witch and wizard for your own protection."

No one spoke. Cho, who had crept in a minute ago, just in time to hear his speech, sobbed. A Hufflepuff girl Harry recognized as Hannah Abbott wrapped an arm around her while the rest held an impromptu moment of silence for their fallen classmate.

"So…anybody else have a question?" Hermione looked a little awkward, shifting from foot to foot.

No one made a move, but a slow wave of resolution seemed to pass through the assembled students, and Fred pulled out a sheet of blank parchment and one of their new color-changing quills. "I propose everyone who is now members of this club sign this, and put your year down too, so we can keep track of our members." He stood and set the sheet on the teacher's desk, bending slightly and scrawling his signature at the top. Hermione smiled and did the same, urging Harry and Ron to do so. A line formed behind them, students signing their names with varying levels of confidence.

"So…anyone object to the name 'Defense Club'? D.C. for short, really." Hermione suggested, resting a hand on her hip. People shrugged.

"Sounds good to me."

"Yeah."

"D.C. it is, then." Hermione beamed and shooed people out. "We should spend the next two weeks looking for a large and private area where we can practice magic undisturbed. Please let I or Ron or Harry know if you find some place. Thank you!"

And so it happened that the Defense Club, in complete violation of multiple new rules made by Professor Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor, was formed.

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End chapter 18

Okay, I know it's called 'Dumbledore's Army' in canon, but since Harry doesn't worship Albus blindly in this, that name wasn't going to fit. So…defense club it was.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Rubbing his skeletal hands together for warmth, Tom considered once again whether regaining a body was worth it if the body was that of a monster. Bellatrix would certainly be surprised, he was sure. He smiled, and quickly wiped it off when Pettigrew came stumbling in with the hot water he had asked for. Dismissing him, he poured the water in his cooling bath and settled back in, staring at the ceiling and going through his plans for finally snuffing the life out of Potter. Not only had the brat's parents been a thorn in his side, now their son was the only one who could truly kill him and no matter what he'd done so far, he'd survived.

Maybe he could plant negative emotions in his friends to weaken him emotionally…

Peter shivered from head to toe when he heard the Dark Lord chuckling. Not even the heat from the stove he was cooking dinner on could bring the warmth back into his veins after hearing that.

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The list of Potions ingredients was long, so Harry took the time to copy them down on a sheet of parchment before slipping into the storage room and fetching them. Malfoy glared at him when he came walking slowly back to their station, but he paid him no mind since moving faster could mean dropping one or two of the volatile ingredients.

Setting them down carefully, he took out the mushrooms and began chopping them into tiny pieces. From years of preparing food at the Dursleys he had gotten fairly proficient at chopping things, so it was mainly the minute stirring turns that gave him trouble. Malfoy didn't seem to be struggling with that though, impatient gestures for him to chop faster regardless.

They finished in record time, Malfoy not deigning to sabotage their potion since it would be counted on his grade too, and Professor Snape merely sneered at him instead of glaring like he wished his bones would spontaneously combust. Leaving class with a grin on his face, he caught Malfoy looking at him funny from the corner of his eye. The blonde looked him up and down slowly, and he wondered why. Shrugging his shoulders, he glued himself to Ron's side and laughed with him over the possible deaths that Trelawney would predict him having in their next class.

He didn't notice how Crabbe and Goyle were trying in vain to redirect Malfoy's attention to them and off of Harry.

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Neville hugged himself nervously, dropping his arms quickly when he realized he was resorting to his childhood comfort techniques. He had gotten lost on his way to Charms yet again, and now he just wanted to be alone. He'd miss dinner at this rate, but he wasn't really hungry so he didn't mind too much.

Crabbe and Goyle pushed him over on their way down the hall, and he blushed when they told him to watch where he was going. He really was a coward if he couldn't even retort that they had obviously gone out of their way to knock him down.

Brushing himself down, he turned a corner and then another one. Pacing back and forth next to a weird tapestry that he really didn't want to look closer at (from the corner of his eye it looked like a orgy with ugly people), he was scared nearly out of his wits when a grinding noise preceded a door forming out of the stone wall, the undecorated wood doors smooth when he hesitantly ran his finger down them. They felt real enough, so he applied some pressure and allowed it to open.

The room behind them was cozy, with an open window depicting a garden very similar to the one next to the cemetery at St. Ottery's that he used to play in before his Grandmother forbid him to do so because he got dirty. It what had first inspired his love of plants, actually, and he slowly crossed the carpeted floor to stare out at it in awe. A light breeze ruffled their petals, and he instinctively made a mental catalogue of the species and their breeding stages, a habit pounded into him by Professor Sprout.

Grinning, he didn't hear the door slip closed or notice the carpet beneath his simple school shoes turn to lush grass. He did spy the vines covering the walls and the sky opening above his head like a great flower, though. Smiling, he sat and just spent the next few hours admiring and getting to know the magical plants that he knew possessed personalities.

Just as the clock struck eight, his eyes widened and he sat straight up. Wishing for a bed, he watched it materialize in a corner, the rest of the room resolving into a bedroom with flowered wallpaper and carpeting. "Perfect!"

Hogwarts really was amazing sometimes, and he wondered which Founded had thought of making a room that did whatever you wanted.

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Hermione blinked when Neville Longbottom of all people came sprinting up to her in the library, ignoring Madam Pince who was hissing at him like a cat for tracking dirt in of all things.

"H-Hermione!" He panted, bending down and bracing his hands on his knees. When he got his breath back, he continued, "I think I found a good meeting place for the D.C."

"Oh really? What is it?" She really hoped it wasn't a greenhouse, since some of those had been taken over by plants and abandoned- needless to say, they were creepy as hell to be alone in, much less practice magical defense spells in.

"It's a room on the fifth floor that does whatever you want, and it can hide you too so in case Umbridge forms that squad of students like she keeps threatening to, we can keep hidden."

"You found the Room of Requirement?!" It had been a footnote of footnote in her much-thumbed copy of 'Hogwarts: A History', but it'd fascinated her ever since she'd first read about it. What kind of spell could create a room that did what you required, anyway?

"It has a name?" Neville crinkled his forehead before it smoothed and he grinned. "So…do you want to see it?"

"In five minutes. My library time will be up by then. You can come with me and help me choose a book to take with me, though, and you can tell me more about how you found it."

She got up and cleared away the research materials she was done with, leaving them on a cart for Madam Pince to do what she wanted with them. Hooking her arm through Neville's, she steered him into the dusty History section.

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A group of students, of varying ages and Houses, were gathered in a hallway on the fifth floor, opposite a disturbing and somewhat r-rated tapestry that they were studiously avoiding looking at- well, the Weasley twins had magnifying glasses in their hands and were squinting at it, but they are going to be ignored for the time being.

The object of their interest was Hermione Granger, who was pacing back and forth before a nondescript section of wall. However, this wall made a whispery noise and produced a door so smooth it shone in the torchlight. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and led them inside a cavernous room with high ceilings and smooth slate floor. There were some benches arranged along the walls with cushioned seats and backs, as well as three sinks in different corners of the room beside cabinets no doubt containing medical supplies.

"It'll do." Harry pretended to be unimpressed, laughing when Hermione punched his shoulder.

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Sitting on a patch of dry earth, Harry gradually tore strips of grass into pieces. There was a growing area of bare ground, since he'd been at it ever since noon. He'd had a huge argument with first Hermione, and then Ron because he was agreeing with her over lunch and had felt too tumbled up inside to bear afternoon classes. This wasn't going to look good on his record at the end of the year, but he supposed that he could make up for it if he studied extra hard on his OWLS.

Everything had been going fine, talking about the D.C., and then the topic of the Dark Lord had come up, and Hermione had the bleeding _nerve _to insinuate that he wasn't that dangerous. He'd retaliated with some facts, and then she started yelling at him. After that it was all a blur, and then he remembered them stalking off together, with half the Hall looking at him funny. He didn't stay long enough for the awkward questions to start.

Sighing, he felt the last bits of anger leaving him, left with nothing but depression. He sighed again and slumped into the tree braced against his back, the bark digging into his back through his school jumper. He'd left his robes in his dormitory, and he was cold now.

Seeing the clouds darken farther, a large drop of water landing on his nose, he rose and headed for the Forbidden Forest for some shelter. He didn't want to go back to Hogwarts yet, not until he decided how to apologize to Ron and Hermione. He didn't think he'd be able to face them again at this point without becoming angry again. Why didn't they want to realize that Voldemort wasn't just after him, but everyone in the Muggle world? Running his fingers through his damp hair, he wandered further into the trees, encountering a flock of the strange, skeletal horses that had pulled the carriages he'd previously thought pulled themselves.

There was the same strange girl they'd shared a carriage with too…and it looked like she was feeding them something. Coming closer, avoiding patches of dry leaves so he wouldn't alert her of his presence, he saw that the red bits he'd thought we're apples were in fact bloody chunks of meat. He wrinkled his nose when the smell wafted over to him, and his foot cracked a twig in two.

Her head whipped around, radish earrings tinkling against the charms woven into her tangled blonde hair. She smiled vaguely at him and went back to cooing at the Thestrals while feeding them the last of the meat in a woven sack stained red on the bottom. She lifted it delicately with her stained hands, smiled at him, and walked past him and back towards the Castle. Deciding that he could either stay out here with the carnivorous horses in the rain or follow her, he choose the latter.

"Hey! Wait up!"

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End chapter 19

Review please!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. "Yes, Harry Potter?"

"Um, just Harry is fine, really, Lovegood."

"Then you can call me Luna." She smiled, and he was reminded of a small child's smile, the kind they gave you after they'd just done something naughty.

He laughed, stopping quickly when he realized he sounded like a girl. When had that happened? His voice barely broke anymore these days, when he cared to pay attention to the sound of his own voice which wasn't often since he always felt utterly ridiculous when he did. "Alright, Luna, can I ask why you were feeding those…um…horses?"

"They're called Thestrals, and I was feeding them because everything needs to be given a little special treatment sometimes. They normally eat decayed flesh or dying animals, like sharks, and you don't find dying cattle in the wild often, so some fresh beef and pork sometimes is a treat for them. I take the scraps that the house elves would throw out, so everybody benefits."

"And you get a walk, too."

"Yeah, that too."

"Since you seem to know so much about them, can you tell me why I can see them but my friends can't?"

"Have any of your friends had any losses of family members recently?"

"Not that I know of, but what does that have to do with it-"

"Only those who have seen death first-hand can see them. I can see them because I saw my mother die when I was young, and I'm guessing your death scene was that nice Diggory boy last year. So why did you ask why I was feeding them?" She swayed back on her heels, the bloody bag swinging with her motions. To distract himself from the mental images replaying Cedric's death last year, he looked at the bag in her hand. It dripped blood steadily onto the grass and he memorized the spot so he wouldn't step in it. What looked like an intestine slipped out and he tasted vomit in the back of his throat at the sight of its slimy texture.

Looking at her face since it wasn't going to nauseate him, he answered, "I don't know- it's just that what you were doing is one of the most interesting things I have seen so far this year and I thought I'd ask."

"Curiosity is dangerous, you know. It kills cats…and causes cavities." She nodded sagely, and he blinked, not having a proper answer to that. "Do you read the Quibbler?"

"Um, I can't say I've heard of it. Is it a book?"

"It's my father's magazine. He writes about things that the Ministry doesn't consider appropriate topics for their published media forms, so he started his own magazine so the Wizarding people can hear something not funded by the government."

His eyebrows rose. He didn't think something like that could exist under Minister Fudge, considering what he'd seen of the man at the World Cup and in his High Inquisitor. "And no one bothers you about it?"

"Well, people like to say that he's crazy, and not many people read it so they aren't as big as we'd like them to be. I help him with it during the weekends normally, but I haven't been able to leave the school property this year because of Umbridge." She spat the name like a curse, and it was such an unexpected inflection of her breathy voice that it made him flinch.

"Can't you get a regular Port key? They sell them in Hogsmeade."

"I can't afford one. The magazine and some baking I do are the only things that support my family, so little luxuries like that aren't worth spending money on."

"Well, I irregularly visit a friend of mine, and I might be willing to put in a word for you at the shop so he'll give you a discount. He might look grumpy, but he becomes partial to you easily if you spend money often enough."

"Hm…that would be nice of you. Why would you go out of your way for something like that? No offense, but we don't really know each other."

"Would you be upset if I said I wanted to know you better?" God, he hoped that hadn't sounded as forward to her as it did to him. The last thing he needed was her thinking he fancied her or worse.

"I'd be surprised, but pleasantly so." She smiled and held out a hand. "I am Luna Lovegood, commonly believed to be insane by the ignorant masses, and it's a pleasure to get to know you better in the future."

Grinning, he shook it and replied, "Harry Potter, miserable and unwilling boy hero, and I can honestly say that the pleasure is all mine."

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Straightening his shirt, Harry turned the knob of Jordan's room. He'd told his boyfriend of nearly five months now that he would be there at noon, but he knew he had morning classes and decided to come early and hide so he could surprise him for his birthday.

Looking down so he could avoid tripping over a pile of books or clothing that Jordan was wont to leave lying about, it was a pair of startled gasps that made him look up. At first he couldn't believe what he was seeing, but eventually the image blurred anyway and he simply left, slamming the door behind him. The other figure in the bed had been female…

He lost the only thing he had thought was his to a girl. He wasn't good enough because he was a boy. Punching the wall as he passed it, he allowed his tenuous self-control to slip far enough for a sob to tear itself out of his throat. Hearing the door opening down the hall, he sprinted for the stairs without looking back, not giving any sign of hearing Jordan's frantic shouts for him to wait.

Shoving aside a pleasant-faced older student by the door, he took a shortcut behind the buildings and out onto the main road, slowing to a very fast walk. Some old ladies gave him pitying looks as he passed, no doubt wondering why a teenaged boy was crying in plain view of the public.

Someone made a grab for his arm, and he paused to check if it was an officer of the law before yanking his arm out of Jordan's grip. He was no longer moving any faster than a normal stride, although he kept his eyes focused straight ahead.

The park was only two blocks away.

"Harry, please listen to me! It wasn't what you think-"

"Oh?" His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears, but he continued, "Because unless there is an alternative explanation to two naked people of the opposite sex engaging in sex, then I wish you would enlighten me!"

A young woman turned her head as they passed by, looking at them with keen interest. He glared at her, needing an outlet for his anger. He felt a stab of guilt when she looked hurt, but was distracted by Jordan once again grabbing his arm.

"Let go of me." he hissed, jerking his arm but unable to free it.

"Not until you let me apologize."

"Sorry, but I don't want to hear it." They were a block away now, and grew more and more nervous. At this rate, he was going to have to walk past his apparatation point lest Jordan see him performing magic-

He realized that he'd never confessed to being a wizard throughout their relationship, but now he was very glad he hadn't. If Jordan could betray him this way and have the gall to think he could smooth it over with an apology, then he really wasn't the sort of person who could be trustworthy enough to keep a secret like that. He'd probably tell it to that girlfriend of his. His mouth felt bitter as he passed the park, heading towards the train station since it was crowded and confusing and offered a higher chance of letting him slip away. Disappearing into crowds was a skill he'd forced himself to pick up when he first learned of his fame as Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing was more horrifying than growing up in the public eye, having every embarrassing stage of his development immortalized and greedily devoured by the public.

Descending the stairs and tuning out Jordan's rambling and stumbling explanation of how Sarah, the girl, had come on to him and tempted him until he didn't know what he was doing anymore; he didn't think he could hear what he had to say even if he tried, his lies remaining unheard.

Reaching the foot, he unexpectedly jerked his entire body and managed to slip free. The crowd closed around him like a wave, and he lost sight of Jordan almost immediately. He now only felt empty, and strangely tired, so he climbed aboard the nearest train, thankful that he'd brought Muggle German money with him in case of an emergency. Resting his cheek against the cold pane of glass beside his seat, he let his eyes slip closed, only waking when the man came by to have him purchase his ticket. Paying it, he settled back down and drifted off once more.

When he awoke, it was dark and he was one of two people in his car. The other was a middle-aged woman, with a figure that belied that she'd never had children, and a wet handkerchief covering the lower half of her face. It would seem he wasn't the only one with a broken heart.

The train coasted to a stop, and he glanced idly out at the station they'd stopped at, mouth dropping open when he saw that he'd somehow ended up in the far side of Austria. Stepping out at the urging of the conductor, his legs wobbled. The woman and he shared a lingering glance, silent understanding and sympathizing passing them regardless of being strangers.

Trudging in the direction the sign said an inn would be, he desperately hoped that he had enough money to pay for a night, and then a ticket tomorrow morning so he could head back the way he'd come to his apparatation point.

Hermione was going to be so angry it was almost funny to imagine.

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Turning onto his side for the hundredth time, he tried to get comfortable on the small bed he'd managed to obtain for the night. It was the only room left, and it was in the drafty section of the building, so he had had to ask for extra blankets lest he risk freezing to death.

He just couldn't sleep, and even though his surface thoughts were blaming it on the cold and unfamiliar location, he knew that it was Jordan. What had he done wrong? Had he done anything, or had it all been Jordan? And what was so great about Sarah that she could convince Jordan to leave a loving partner for her claws?

Swallowing the building emotions in his throat, he flipped onto his back and scowled at the sagging ceiling until his cheeks hurt and he fell into a restless sleep.

Waking very early the next morning, he pulled his pants back on, wrinkled his nose at his socks but donned them under his shoes anyway, and proceeded down to the desk to check out. There was a sleepy old man there, leaning on the counter and filling in dates to the log. Clearing his throat, he got his attention and signed his name when the well-worn book was passed to him without question.

"Pleasure doing business with you. Come again." Harry could personally say that he'd never seen someone happier to see him go.

He managed to catch the earliest train available to Berlin after waiting around in the freezing pre-dawn morning with a large stray dog which huddled near him on the bench, sharing its warmth. He was one of the only people under twenty on the train, two young American tourists the only other people sharing his age group.

He kept himself from falling asleep by observing his fellow passengers and finishing all of his required school reading which he had brought along in case he got bored waiting around for Jordan in his room. A pang went through him when he realized that this would be the last of those trips he'd spent so much time looking forward to, but he brushed it off. He'd moped and fumed yesterday- today was the day he would spend getting himself back together before he had to face his peers.

He couldn't show up in tears, after all.

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End chapter 20


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-one

Rubbing his arms, he walked back from Hogsmeade, the naked trees standing stark against the grey sky. The sun was a paler blob amongst the clouds, and the path was spattered with deep puddles.

When he approached the Castle, he was already soaked from the knees down, and sneezing every two minutes. He just hoped Hermione would take pity on him and not freeze him with her anger, but rather burn him so at least he could get some feeling back into his bones. He was beginning to doubt he even had bones…

Climbing the steps and pushing open the door, he hissed when the sensation of being punctured with a thousand burning needles hit him dead-on, leaving no part of his body untouched. He limped slowly up the stairs and ignored the Slytherin couple who had taken advantage of the chilly hall repulsing Professor Umbridge to get to know each other better in peace. He passed by three more such couples from various Houses, glad to be on the floor his dormitory resided on at last.

Muttering 'pepper pebbles putter' at the Fat Lady's portrait, he stepped inside and approached the stairs to the boy's quarters without bothering to survey the occupants of the Common Room, consequently missing Fred and George huddled in a corner blocking someone with bushy hair from noticing his return.

Closing the door behind him, he nodded to Seamus and Neville, the latter assisting the former with his Herbology homework.

Flopping on hi bed, face down, he let himself pass out regardless of classes early tomorrow and the crick he'd be getting in his neck very soon. He didn't feel Ron carefully remove his shoes and wet trousers, settling him under his covers in a less physically-demanding position.

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Awakening a little later than usual, he rushed through his grooming process, grimacing at the muck that had somehow gotten into his hair as it washed down the drain. His muscles still ached from a combination of sitting stiffly on a train and then getting off at the wrong stop, resulting in a very long walk to the apparatation point and then a long walk back to the Castle.

Stumbling down the steps, waving back at a third-year who was in the Defense Club, he winced as his bag swung out and then banged solidly into his ribs. He was still tired, and knew that paying attention in class today was going to be a real chore, but maybe if he could grab some coffee before then-

Hermione came out of nowhere. He didn't see her storming out of the doors to the Great Hall, hands on her hips once again and eyes narrower than slits. He did see the hand flying towards his face, though, and did very much feel the shock and then sharp sting of her slapping him.

His mouth fell open, and he just stared at the fuming witch, brain refusing to supply a reason for this injustice. He slowly raised a hand to feel the damage, breathily saying, "Ow."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" Her voice echoed, and he felt a sense of déjà vu. When had this happened before? Ah yes! The first time he disappeared for a mere Saturday, of course.

"Um…would 'I'm sorry' help this situation?"

"No! Well, maybe. It depends on how much you mean it." The hands were off the hips now, so he took that as a good sign. A Hufflepuff passing through gave him a sympathetic look, and he smiled vaguely. They had looked familiar, but he didn't think he could recognize his own face right now.

"I mean it very much right now if it means you won't slap me again."

She snickered, and patted his unharmed cheek gently. "Alright, I'm not angry anymore. But dammit, Harry, you scared me there. Why'd you stay the whole weekend anyway?"

"We broke up."

"Huh?"

Beleatedly he realized he hadn't told her, or anyone at Hogwarts, about his boyfriend, but since it was over now he decided that he might as well spill the beans.

"I was sent to a juvenile center over the summer since my relatives didn't want to deal with me, and I met someone while I was there. Some stuff happened, and we got to know each other better. We both liked what we were seeing, and decided to become a couple. Yesterday morning I walked in on him shagging some chit in the same bed we shared when I was there, and I broke up with him."

It seemed a lot less awful now that he'd said it aloud, and he was too busy mulling over that to notice Hermione's jaw drop. She spluttered out at last, "Y-you're queer?"

He coughed, her question drawing attention to something he'd overlooked. "Uh, I guess so?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know myself, and when I did find out, I didn't know how you'd react." The bell rang for classes, and his stomach growled at him plaintively when it realized it wasn't going to get fed. "Dammit, Hermione, do we have to have this conversation now?"

She scowled, grabbed his elbow, and steered him to their first class, Ron joining them soon afterwards and handing a still-warm pastry to Harry.

"Oh, thanks, Ron!"

"No problem. I noticed you weren't at breakfast, and you came in pretty late yesterday." He ruffled his hair, laughing when Harry chased after him, trying to kick him for mussing his hair even more than it already was.

Hermione merely shook her head, following at a statelier pace.

Draco Malfoy staring after them, having overheard the 'gay' confession, was late to class for his efforts to puzzle out what exactly was wrong with Harry Potter this year. In years past he had actually reacted to his taunts and deliberately childish pranks, playing into his hands like the fool he'd always thought him to be. For the first time, however, he was getting a look at the person who had supposedly defeated the Dark Lord more than twice, which was more anyone else currently alive could say for themselves.

Sighing, he thanked Merlin that he wasn't feeling too well, so being late to class wasn't going to mar his perfect record if he was in the Hospital Wing.

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End chapter 21

Short this time, but you know how it is.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-One

Grinning ear to ear in a grimace of triumph that chilled even the trained Aurors flanking her, Dolores Umbridge ascended the steps to the Headmaster's office, not bothering to knock as she burst in on his private working space.

She spared a moment of awe for the phoenix Fawkes whom she hadn't yet seen during her stay at Hogwarts, and the great plumed bird had the nerve to raise its head from under its wing to hiss at her. Passing by his perch, she missed the little fire ball it sent at her feathery hat, igniting the plumes on top. She didn't notice even as a slow thread of smoke wound its way upwards towards the vaulted ceiling.

"Ah, Madam Umbridge, what can I do for you?" Albus' voice rang out from around a table heavy with historical texts, so she wound her way around it until his desk came into view. He had his hands folded before him, in an affected pose of control that she was going to enjoy tearing to shreds.

"Albus Dumbledore, you have been charged with treason and deliberate withholding of valuable information regarding the convict Sirius Black. We shall now take you into custody." She gestured for the Aurors to get to work, and Shacklebolt was the last to move, and slowly at that.

"Oh, Dolores, you really didn't think that I was going to just come meekly along with you to the Ministry with you when we both know you have no proof?" He smirked, stood, and all at once something red flew past her and connected with the Headmaster's raised arms. He disappeared in a flash of light that blinded them for a moment. When the bright spots in her eyes had been blinked away, she saw that she was alone in the office with her two Aurors, and no evidence of either Dumbledore or his feathered friend was present.

A chunk of flaming pink velvet dropped from her hat brim, and she suddenly realized that she smelled smoke, and then her entire hat turned to ashes, singeing her face and catching fire to her blouse. Shrieking for help, she couldn't understand why the Aurors were snickering quietly as they summoned quite a bit more water than was necessary to douse the flames.

"Alright, its gone, you can stop drenching me this instant!" She snapped, stalking out of the room with loud sloshing sounds coming from her shoes, which had accumulated a lot of water.

She was going to file a complaint against those Aurors.

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Harry eyed the front cover of the Daily Prophet, mouth frozen and cereal slowly turning to mush inside it. He couldn't remember how to breathe, so how was he going to remember how to chew?

A picture of the Headmaster had been enlarged, even the old man's twinkling eyes captured by the camera. He looked as benevolent as he always did, and Harry would have snorted and moved on if the headline hadn't read 'ALBUS DUMBLEDORE CHARGED WITH TREASON, EVADES THE LAW!'

No surprise, it was written by Rita Skeeter. He could recognize her characteristic over-use of exclamation points a mile away.

Cho slid onto the bench beside him and nicked his paper, choking when she read the front page. "Merlin, Professor Dumbledore got accused of treason?"

"So they tell us. I just wonder if its true or not…"

She spluttered. "Of course it isn't true! Harry, that man has shared the same Castle as a home with us for years. When have you ever seen him be anything less than a great and generous man? As far as I'm concerned, Fudge is just scared about Election Day and wanted to get his imagined competition out of the way." She snorted derisively.

"Competition? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, my mom used to work in the Ministry as a secretary, and from what she's told me, Fudge has never stopped being paranoid that one of these days Dumbledore is going to up and run for Minister of Magic, and knowing his reputation, people would elect him in a heart beat over him. But our Headmaster loves this school and would never try to run our whole country, so this is most likely Fudge trying to put some dirt on Dumbledore's reputation again."

"Oh." Should he be ashamed of himself for not knowing that?

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"As the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have a few announcements to make…"

Harry tuned her out, staring down with disgust at his apple. He'd taken a bite out of it, tasted something slimy, and was now seeing the diseased fruit that had lain so innocently behind a flawless and gleaming red skin. Reaching for another, he decided to eat a pear instead.

Hermione's face got grayer and grayer, all color draining out of it until she looked nearly dead. The rest of the students weren't much better off, besides a select few who fell into two more groups, one of smug amusement and the other burning and barely controlled fury.

If Umbridge was trying to make a good impression on them with her babying tones and downright patronizing way of speaking to them, she had chosen the wrong method.

He made a signal with his hand to get Hermione's attention, and when he had it he mouthed, 'D.C. meeting later?'

She nodded, mouth a red slit in her face from pressing her lips tightly together. He wondered vaguely if she, like him, was suppressing a scream of outrage as the list of rules continued on for the next hour and a half while the food slowly grew cold, very few of the students still able to stomach looking at it, much less take a bite.

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"Alright, out with it. What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" Draco looked up from his Ancient Runes homework, eyebrows furrowed at Blaise. The taller boy sighed and sat down on the sofa beside him with the air of someone with something very important on his mind. "What's up, Blaise?"

"Answer my question first, and I might consider answering yours."

"What question?"

"The one about how you've been spacing out, ignoring me and Pansy, not to mention Crabbe and Goyle which is devastating to them, and then the whole 'not sleeping' thing you've started."

"Hey, how did you know I wasn't sleeping? Have you been stalking me or something? Because I'm sorry to break it to you, Blaise, but that is really creepy."

Blaise snickered. "No, Draco, I have more interesting things to do with my time than stalk you. Gregory told me that you've been moving around a lot, and even get up to read in the Common Room when everyone else is in bed. Do you just want to be alone, or is there seriously bothering you?" Draco didn't answer, staring pensively at the fire. "I like to consider us friends, Draco, and that means that if you are suicidal or something, you tell me before doing something stupid." He sent a significant look at Draco's left forearm, which didn't go unnoticed. Draco sighed loudly, and then asked, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Do you even have to ask me that?"

"Yeah, okay, stupid question. Its just that this is…well, different than the usual stuff we talk about."

"You mean it has nothing to do with sex, drugs, or violence?"

Draco laughed. "I'm trying to be serious here!"

"Sorry." Blaise did his best to look meek. He looked constipated instead. "So what's the big secret?"

"I fancy someone."

"Someone who isn't Pansy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm beginning to understand why this has to be a secret." They shared a shudder as they remembered what Pansy Parkinson had done to the last girl she thought Draco fancied. She was obsessed, and didn't care who knew it.

"It gets better. It's a 'he'."

"So you've finally accepted the fact that you're as flaming as it gets?"

"I am not flaming!" Some older students looked over at them, smirked, and turned away again.

"Are you kidding me? Draco, you dress better than everybody else in our House, and on top of that, you _strut._"

"I what?"

"Strut. You know, when you walk?"

"I strut?"

"That would be what I've been telling you. So…who is it?"

"A Gryffindor boy without a dishonest bone in his body, and a heart of gold."

"Harry Potter?"

"How'd you guess?" He sat up straighter, looking around nervously. They were practically alone, and if he hadn't been noticing Harry lately, he might have blushed at how close Blaise was sitting to him now. And the knowledge that Blaise couldn't keep his hands to himself around Millicent Bulstrode, of all people, to save his life.

"Who else would you use those clichés to describe? Except those clichés seem to fit, at least partially, into Potter's personality. I wouldn't hope too much for the 'no lying' bit, though." He reached down and took a sip from his water glass, slumping into the comfy sofa. "So, have you made any moves on the Gryffindor's trophy student yet?"

"No, and I don't think I'm going to."

Blaise spat his water back into the glass. "What the hell, Draco?! Why not?" He sounded almost insulted, and Draco felt a bit of suspicion that his friend had some bet going around about him and his love life.

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Just because. I might change my mind later, but I want to hold off for now. He seems kind of fragile at the moment, and he might think I am trying to use him for something if I ask him out, provided he even stops to see me as a person, and not some kind of slimy being of irritation."

Blaise hummed. "Damn, I can't say I want to be you right now."

"I love you too, Blaise."

"Hey, don't go all queer on me just because you can't have the boy you want!" He migrated to the complete other side of the sofa, going so far as to straddle the arm rest, all the while shooting Draco exaggerated frightened glances. Draco just laughed at how ridiculous he was acting, looking down at his Ancient Runes text without feeling much interest in studying water symbols right now.

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End chapter 22

So…how do you guys feel about this Draco?


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Christmas was practically upon them, but no one showed any signs of the cheer characteristic of this time of year. Their new Headmistress had allowed decorations to be put up, but the students were forbidden to make any of their own, or have any part in the selection process. They assumed she chose them, since they were unusually garish and more frightening than heartening.

Slumping through the door to Professor Binns' class, Harry's shoulder brushed against someone else's. Turning his head, he found himself nearly nose-to-nose with none other than Malfoy. The blonde blushed, mumbled 'sorry', and moved away to a seat on the left side of the room. Hermione was already settled in the seat behind him, reading their new History text with a grimace.

Umbridge had not been satisfied with depriving them of a proper education in Defense, but re-wrote their curriculum, replacing most of their texts with new ones obviously geared towards very young children. From what he'd been reading, they were severely censored and placed the Ministry of Magic in rather a better light than it deserved.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat beside her and leaned close so he could read over her shoulder, choking when he noticed just how much was missing in the sections covering the last three hundred years. The war against Grindelwald was barely mentioned, and Voldemort was a brief paragraph in a small font comparable to the one used for foot notes. Somehow the information had been twisted to make it look like the Ministry had given information and man-power to Dumbledore, enabling him to defeat Grindelwald with minimal effort. Modern-day laws were emphasized in bold print, and he scowled when he read the section covering future goals. None of them involved even the concept of equality amongst its citizens, Creature and Wizard, Muggle born and Pureblood.

He was uncomfortably reminded of various Communists he'd studied before Hogwarts at his Muggle school. How could something like this be happening, and without anyone contending it? It was obviously a violation of every tract of rights in existence, but it was still steadily realizing itself!

Professor Binns didn't even bother to call for silence when he floated into the room, opening his mouth and launching into a lecture on the Goblin wars. Harry sighed. At least some things wouldn't change, and the ghost's descriptions of bloody atrocities were still as vivid as ever.

Hermione looked slightly nauseous as he extrapolated on one of the human generals being torn limb from limb by a Goblin-trained battle Dragon.

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Nibbling his quill, Draco peeked up at Hermione and Harry, eyes hidden by his fringe of hair that he'd grown out specifically to prevent people from knowing what he was looking at. The Muggle born was scribbling notes so fast he expected smoke to rise from her parchment at any second, Weasley was asleep and drooling on her shoulder, and Harry…Harry was staring out the window, unaware that a beam of winter sunlight was making his hair look like raven's feathers and his skin like-

He bit through his lip by accident and winced, slipping his tongue out to soothe it and collect the drops of blood. He really needed to stop 'Harry watching', as he'd christened it. It was going to be the death of his grades unless Harry suddenly turned into an ugly prick overnight, which was physically impossible from what he knew.

Pansy jabbed his side with the pointy end of her quill, a drop of ink quickly spreading from the wet tip onto his gray school sweater. He poked her playfully with his finger when she looked horrified at what she'd done, smiling fondly down at his would-be girlfriend. She might have a voice like nails on chalkboard when she was irritated, a temper like Medusa, and a creepy obsession with his undergarments, but she had been a constant presence throughout his entire remembered lifetime, and she had her moments. Besides, if it hadn't been for her, he would have spent his pre-Hogwarts childhood completely alone in a massive house with Dark Artifacts hidden away, ignored by his alcoholic mother and ordered about by his smug nannies.

"Hey, do you wanna skip next class with me?" She didn't even bother to whisper, knowing that their Professor had worked himself into his usual teaching trance.

He was about to answer when the door opened, revealing their Headmistress in all her pink glory. He wanted to groan, but didn't fancy detentions every night for the rest of the year so he swallowed it.

"Students, if I may interrupt your class, I would like to ask Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to accompany me to my office for a little chat and some tea."

He could see the two Gryffindors stiffen, but they rose anyway, the rustling of their clothing and Professor Binns droning voice the only sounds in the classroom. Umbridge simpered when they passed by her and out the door, closing it behind them.

"I wonder what that was all about…" Pansy asked, scratching the side of her neck and staring at the door. The rest of the students were whispering, and he noticed that select Gryffindors looked kind of dodgy, whispering to each other and practically twitching in their seats. They were the same Gryffindors he often caught practicing wand movements with their hands or scribbling notes.

"I don't know…they probably did something stupid again and are actually getting punished this time." The derisive words tasted like acid on his tongue, but if he'd done anything less Pansy would have thought he was attracted to Granger or something and promptly made attempts on the brunette's life.

He sighed dejectedly. Not only was his eye candy gone, but also his desire to skip class. What was a boy to do?

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Settling into the flower-print visitor's couch permanently in place before her desk, since the office previously held by Dumbledore mysteriously would no longer open, Harry twisted his hands in his lap and did everything in his power to look nervous and out of his mind with worry.

Umbridge's smirk just got wider and wider, so he deduced that he wasn't overdoing the acting thing and that she was buying it.

"Well, children, have you got something to tell me? And I wouldn't suggest lying, since I already know what it is. I am merely giving you the chance to redeem yourselves." Her voice was so smug; Harry could practically feel the syrup sliding into his ear canals.

"I…I know where it is."

"Where what is?" She looked flabbergasted for a split second, and then desperately tried to cover it up. He shared a smirk with Hermione while the woman's attention wandered.

"The you-know-what is hidden you-know-where." He leaned forward, moving his eyebrows conspiratorially, grinning when she looked confused. "We _are _going to go get it, right?"

"Oh! Yes, yes of course. Let's go!" She stood, seeming twitchy.

Harry made a jerky movement with his arm. "Aren't you going to lead the way?"

"Uh…I am not walking in front of you! You are still in trouble, young man! And you two, young lady!" they saw straight through her ploy, but chose not to acknowledge it.

"Harry, why don't you do the honors?" Hermione waved him forward, fingers pressing down hard enough on his lower back to sting. "Lord knows that I can never remember where it is- sometimes even what it is."

Damn. Maybe he should have let her know what he was planning first.

Leading the way out of her office, through the school's empty corridors since everyone else was still in class or avoiding them like the plague Umbridge was, and out the doors. He headed straight for the Forbidden Forest, hoping that the sneaking glimpse of a giant he'd seen while following a baby Thestral hadn't just been his imagination.

From what he'd been reading as he researched Dolores Umbridge, she had tried over and over to violate the basic rights of Centaurs, which he knew the Forbidden Forest contained a healthy amount of, and Giants. She had even tried to get bills past that would sentence the Creatures to death if they so much as dared to show themselves in a group of more than three to Humans. How were they supposed to know where Humans were and react accordingly?!

Entering the woods despite Umbridge's brief sputtering, he led them deeper and deeper until he brushed the section where he had spied a foot the size of a car.

"Well, Potter, where is it?"

"Just wait a minute."

He could hear a faint rushing sound, and then the ground trembled once- twice- three times, and something massive and vaguely human-shaped came around the thick tree they had stopped beside. It made a grunting noise when Hermione and Dolores screamed, mumbling something that sounded creepily like 'sparkly' before plucking her from the ground and turning her about in his meaty palms, clearly curious.

Harry snickered, and Hermione turned her head to stare at him, mouthing, 'who is that?'

He just shrugged, whispering, "I thought I saw a giant when I was taking a walk, so I brought us out here. The giants have a beef with Umbridge thanks to some stuff she tried to do to their rights."

"Oh. But wait…what if there wasn't a giant after all?"

"Then the Centaurs currently surrounding us brandishing spears and various other pointy sticks would have done the damage."

Hermione gaped at the 'dark' Creatures that had somehow grouped around them silently and without her noticing, staring at the giant with something very much like envy.

"Hey, you! Can you hand her over so we can tear her head from her shoulders?" One of the brasher-looking centaurs yelled, addressing the giant and waving his axe impatiently. It glinted in the afternoon sunlight, and Harry swallowed. The other centaurs grunted in agreement, and the giant bowed to the peer pressure, bending down to hand the squirming, shrieking bundle of human flesh known as Umbridge to the largest centaur. The horse-man creature grinned, showing pointy teeth, and rode off, the other centaurs whooping and following as they galloped off into the woods.

They were silent after that, staring in turn at the copse of trees the centaurs had ridden into and the giant. The giant stared back at Hermione, making a dusting of rose color bloom across her cheek.

"Pretty…"

Hermione shrunk back when he reached for her, fingers making grabbing motions as he repeated the word 'pretty' over and over again in increasingly breathy tones. Harry just smiled, shielding his best friend when she scowled at him. Instead of making the giant back off, his eyes widened and he used a finger to gently touch the top of Harry's head.

"Pretty too…"

"Shit."

The fingers closed around his body, lifting him into the air. Considering the circumstances, the brief jolt of joy at having his feet off the ground once again was entirely inappropriate. It didn't make the feeling go away, though.

"Uh-"

The giant asked him something in a deep grumbling series of vowels. He didn't understand a word of it and shrugged helplessly.

The giant hugged him to his breast, nearly suffocating him. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn't smell bad, but rather like trees and freshly-turned earth. He inhaled, reminded of Hagrid but minus the beer smell usually mixed in.

"Um…Harry?" Hermione waved her arms helplessly, not knowing what to do. None of her books had ever covered the correct procedure of action when one's best friend was being hit on by a giant who didn't speak much English outside of complimentary adjectives.

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End chapter 23


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Did anything you've come across in books say anything about what giants usually want when they grab Humans?"

She colored, feeling the seemingly gaping hole in her knowledge stretch ever wider as she grew more ashamed of it. She shook her head, feeling even more dejected when he groaned.

"Ah, dammit, Hermione…the one time you don't know what to do happens to coincide with mine…"

The giant, who introduced himself as 'Grawp', sat on the forest floor with a thud that shook some of the saplings growing near the larger, steadier trees, leaning his broad back against a thick tree trunk. Harry was still held close to him, but loosely enough that he was in no pain or even much discomfort of the physical kind.

Grawp carefully picked up a brightly colored vine growing along the forest floor, one of the last few touches of color in the gray and white landscape, draping it haphazardly over Harry's shoulders and torso.

"Good?"

Harry looked down at himself, idly noting that green suited him. He nodded, resting his head against the giant's massive chest. He was tired, the giant was warm, and he didn't really have any will to move away, so he took advantage of the situation and began to doze off. It was studying season, who knew when a chance for a catnap like this could happen again?

He could hear Hermione sitting as well, across from him and Grawp, and judging from the soft noise of paper sliding against paper, she had pulled out her incomplete essay for Transfiguration.

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"Grawpy! Grawpy, where have you gone?" Hagrid's voice interrupted the soft noises of the Forbidden Forest, making Hermione twitch out of her unwilling sleep. She looked around frantically for what had awakened her, screeching when Hagrid's foot nearly crushed her as he came around the tree she was braced against.

"What the-?" He looked down, shock clearly shown on his expressive face despite his bushy beard. "Miss Granger! What are you doing out here in the cold night? Shouldn't you be at supper with the rest of the little ones?"

"Supper?" She looked around, noticing the black sky and stars twinkling down on her, and the freezing wind whistling through the tops of the trees. "Oh." A few bits of snow must have blown down while she was asleep since there was a large wet spot in the middle of her essay. Scowling, she cast a drying charm and began rolling up her supplies and placing them inside her school bag.

"Grawpy!" Hagrid sounded very happy to have found the giant, approaching and then noticing the sleeping Harry curled in his arms, the giant's head resting against the human's as he snored. "Grawpy, wake up!"

The giant snorted, and his eyes slowly opened. "Hagrid?"

"Grawpy, put young Potter down right now!"

He shook his head, pulling Harry tighter and waking the teen in the process. "Huh? What happened?" He looked up, seeing the giant still very attached to him, and sighed heavily. "Oh. That's what happened. Hello Hagrid."

"I, uh, I see you've met me half-brother."

"This is your brother?"

"Half-brother, actually. His name is Grawp."

"Grawp, huh? I guess it kind of fits." He smiled at the giant, and then asked, "But what is he doing here?"

Hagrid blushed. "Well, the Headmaster said I could keep him out here if I kept him out of sight, since he hadn't anywhere else to go. I found him while I was out in the mountains, and being brothers and all, we got attached to each other. I'm teaching him as much English as I can, and he picks it up pretty well. He's smarter than most giants."

"He seems to be so. He can say 'pretty'."

"Ah, so that's why he's holding you? I've caught him with deer and rabbits before, but he usually leaves Humans alone. He's a bit shy around them…"

"Not around us. He had no trouble showing his face and grabbing me first chance he got."

"Mine." Grawp added, smiling and showing two rows of square teeth.

Hagrid tugged on his beard. "Oh damn…Grawp, please let go of Harry."

Grawp shook his head, repeating with emphasis that Harry was his. He then began stroking his back and Harry gave up trying to reason with him, instead letting the tension that built up from months of horrible posture bent over books melt away.

"Grawpy, Harry will get cold out here and then get sick. He won't be very happy if that happens. How about you let him go, so he can eat, and then maybe he'll come back and visit you?"

"I don't mind visiting at all." Harry chimed in, opening his eyes and meeting Grawp's.

The Giant whined but let him go, and Harry almost fell over when he hit the ground, legs almost completely numb. Hermione grabbed his arm and wrapped one of hers around his shoulders, giggling when he pretended to lean all his weight on her, doing his best to look pathetic and injured.

"Oh, come on, you! We're going to go eat dinner, and without a certain someone leaning over our shoulders."

His face brightened. "We really did it, then? I though it was a dream…"

Hermione shook her head and led him out of the trees and onto the snowy open ground. A flake landed on her nose, tickling her. Looking around, she saw that it had started snowing, not that it was very easy to see since it was so dark out without the moon, but she could just see the ghostly reflections moving about them, falling silently.

"Now I'm starting to feel a little better about Christmas…"

"Yeah, me too." Hermione agreed softly.

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Sitting side-by-side in McGonagall's office, Harry got himself into a staring contest with Auror Kingsley. Because they had been the last to be seen with Dolores Umbridge, now reported missing and possibly dead by authorities since no sign of her had been found in two weeks, they were being questioned.

"You're absolutely sure you don't know where she was going?"

"Yes, sir. She told us she wanted to show us something in the woods, to punish us for something, we don't know what, and when we got there, she started to look a little ill, and then she just wandered off. We asked her if she wanted us to wait, and she just waved us off. We waited around for several hours until it got dark, and then it was too cold to be out and the indoors curfew was really close, so we went inside." Hermione's eyes were wide and if you didn't know better, which Harry did, you would have thought she was the sort of girl who was incapable of lying.

"Well, I can't say this has come at a bad time, since someone told their parents that they were no longer allowed to breathe too loud in class, and that parent told a lot of people, and now some inspectors are coming here along with a troupe of angry parents." Auror Kingsley looked tired, rubbing his eyes. "I don't need anything more from you two. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." They moved normally out of the room and down the hall until they were out of the sight of the color-changing Auror Tonks before making a run for it, a whoop of excitement coming out of his throat.

Sure, he would be spending Christmas without someone special, but at least he could celebrate it with his friends uninterrupted. There were even rumors that Dumbledore had been cleared of charges, and was currently being tracked down with renewed vigor so they could welcome him back.

Shaking his head, he sat down next to Ron at lunch and stole a piece of bread off of his overflowing plate.

Things were looking up, although the dark cloud he had felt at the beginning of the year was still there, sitting heavily on his heart. He chose to ignore it for now, brushing it off as lingering paranoia.

Umbridge was gone now, and never coming back, so what else could possibly go wrong?

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End chapter 24


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

There was something very wrong. He was alone in a strange hallway with gleaming bricks for walls broken every now and then by doors labeled nonsensically, and he felt like there was something with him in the hall, even though every time he looked around all he could see was more walls and doors. He started to run, feet pounding the smooth floor, causing a ripple of echoes to break out. A whooshing sound filled his ears, and then some kind of shadow with red eyes surrounded him, suffocating his lungs and filling his eyes with smoke, making them water and blur his vision. He stumbled, crashed into a wall with enough force to bruise his shoulder, and then as he tried to get his balance back he broke through a door labeled 'the Veil'.

On the floor of this room was Sirius, his body twisted with bits of shattered bone puncturing the skin and sticking out like cacti limbs. Vomit filled his mouth, but he approached anyway, frantically noting that he wasn't breathing and his skin was cold. The blood was cold too, and dried where the flow had ebbed.

The shadow from the hall followed him, filling the room with its choking presence and slowly squeezing his lungs until he gave a strangled moan and collapsed on the floor beside Sirius' lifeless body, vision fading to black and the iron-like smell of blood seeming to cut off. The faint sound of wind disappeared too, and then the taste of his own blood from where he had bitten nearly through his own tongue. Finally the very sensation of the stone floor bruising his spine was gone as well. He felt nothing, experienced nothing, and could only wonder what had happened.

Something stabbed him straight through the heart, cutting it out and squeezing the blood out of it. The pain was excruciating, and he screamed and screamed and screamed…

A yell bubbled out of his throat, and he smacked his head on his nightstand as he fell out of bed, body impacting with the cold floor with a loud 'smack'. A trickle of blood oozed out of the cut and into his eye. He wiped it away, wincing when he realized that he had twisted his wrist in his fall. Straining his ears, he hoped he hadn't waked any of his dorm mates.

Ron stirred in the bed across from him, turning over and opening his eyes blearily.

"'Arry?" He mumbled, blinking down at his fallen best friend.

"Go back to sleep, Ron." The pain he'd felt in his dream seemed to wrack through him in waves, dull in comparison to what his subconscious had subjected him to seconds before, but still quite painful.

Ron was too tired to pick out the tremors in Harry's voice, sliding peacefully back into the arms of sleep without giving the incident a second thought come morning, passing it off as a fragment of a dream.

He didn't notice the broken skin surrounded by a purple bruise barely covered by Harry's fringe, nor the dark circles blooming steadily under Harry's eyes as the days went by.

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It was Christmas Eve, and Harry was the last one awake other than Hermione, who was writing a letter to Viktor Krum last he'd asked. The fire was little more than a tiny flame licking at the embers, and it didn't ward off the oppressive chill most Castle's possessed much.

Sighing, he stared up at the ceiling. Fred and George had charmed a piece of mistletoe to follow him around at lunch, and he'd been laughingly smooched by Cho, Hermione, _and _Parvati Patil. He was fairly sure Lavender put Parvati up to it, though, judging by the giggling and shoving that had gone on for a few minutes before she'd unexpectedly tumbled into him and practically drooled on his cheek.

He scrubbed at it in memory, catching himself wishing that Jordan had been here to kiss him. He really missed those…

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hm?" He looked at Hermione, who was rolling her letter into a tight missive to mail tomorrow morning.

"What's on your mind? You look kind of wistful."

He smiled faintly. "Jordan."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and then she frowned. "Oh, Harry…"

"Yeah." Seeing that she was moving to get up and most likely come over there to initiate an awkward conversation about his love life, he stood and quickly kissed her cheek. "I'm going to bed, Hermione. Sleep well!"

"Hey! I…"

He was already gone, the door to his dormitory closing quietly behind him. Seamus, Dean and Neville had gone home for the holidays, and Ron was dead to the world, curled into a little ball for warmth instead of his usual sprawl across the bed. One of his feet was sticking out of the covers, covered his gooseflesh. Smiling, he carefully tugged a fold of the blanket to cover it from the cold air, patting the covered skin affectionately before heading over to his own bed and pulling his shirt over his head.

He could only hope that he would be allowed to spend the night before Christmas nightmare-free.

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Munching on a piece of fudge from Mrs. Weasley, he shifted his posture to slide his feet into Ron's lap, knowing that Ron would get irritated and therefore pay him some attention. He was starting to feel a little neglected, what with Hermione in the girl's dormitory presumably reading the medical journals her parents had sent her for Christmas and Ron making eyes at Lavender Brown of all people, who was blushing pinker than her dress and fiddling with her hair.

Ron absently shifted himself so Harry's feet hit the floor with a thunk. Sighing, he gave up and grabbed some paper to write a letter to Sirius. He couldn't send it, but at least he could pretend.

He hoped his godfather wasn't freezing to death in some cave in the Himalayas, although he could think of worse ways to spend the holiday.

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End chapter 25


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sidling away from Pansy while she was distracted with the sparkly diamond bracelet he'd gotten for her for New Year's, his back bumped against someone else's in the crowded hall full of returning students shouting and greeting one another. Craning his head to apologize, he discovered a pair of wide green eyes staring at him.

"Did you just apologize?" Harry's voice was softer and raspier than he remembered it being, as if he had been shouting a lot, or smoking. Either option was equally valid, since some people took up smoking during depression and Harry had definitely been depressed this year despite the lying smiles he put on for his friends.

Realizing that it had been a question, and even more embarrassingly that he had been staring at him like some kind of brainless moron, he answered, "Uh…yeah? What of it?"

Harry blushed, which he decided looked a lot better on the Gryffindor than it did on him. Bright colors tended to wash him out, according to his mother. "N-nothing." He shuffled his feet. "Just surprised I guess."

"Why?" He was actually starting to pay attention to what Harry was saying now that he had convinced himself to stop staring, no matter how tempting it was.

"I thought you were the kind of person who never apologized."

Ouch. That stung, badly. And to top it off, Harry shrugged and walked away towards where Weasley's sister was waving at him. One of these days Harry would prefer to spend his time with him and not that redheaded brat!

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Stepping out onto the snow for Care of Magical Creatures, Harry's thoughts wandered to Grawp and how the giant was holding up in the cold. He was sure Hagrid would have used his umbrella to cast some warming charms on him, but those could only do so much.

Weighing the pros and cons, he waited until Hermione was distracted by a Hufflepuff from their D.C., which was still running despite the vanquishing of Umbridge, and then made a run for it. Slipping into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, he waited until he was out of earshot of the rest of the students actually going to class before calling for the giant. He had visited him once after their meeting, and he had enjoyed being given rides on the giant's back and teaching him English with Hagrid. He'd taught him the words 'happy' and 'sad', and done his best to explain what they meant.

Feeling the ground shaking and quivering beneath his feet, he smiled up at the giant, who was swathed in the fur of some massive creature he would be terrified to meet a living specimen of, and held his arms out so they wouldn't get pinned to his sides when he was inevitably lifted high into the air. He could see the tops of some of the trees from his place on Grawp's shoulder, and he could see a lot of animal nests carefully concealed from ground predators for the winter.

"Grawp is happy." The giant tugged Harry's foot lightly to get his attention, grinning toothily at him.

"I'm happy too. Did you miss me?"

"What is…mizz?"

He grabbed a fold of fur and wrapped it around his waist, saying, "Miss means that you feel sad when someone is gone."

Grawp knitted his eyebrows, and then said, "Grawp miss Harry lots!"

Harry's guilt about skipping class disappeared immediately, and he decided to skip dinner as well. He was getting a little tubby since Mrs. Weasley's fudge, so skipping a meal couldn't hurt.

If he'd gone to dinner he would have heard the announcements given by the Headmaster, returned from his 'vacation' in the Bahamas, which the Ministry of Magic mysteriously ended up paying for.

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End chapter 26

Sorry it's short! My internet was down for most of my daily writing slot, so this is the compromise.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Winter drifted away almost overnight, and before he knew it, Harry was picking his way through the mud on his way to the far greenhouse, Hermione alternately clutching his arm or Ron's to keep her balance.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were just behind them, giggling and whispering to each other in between peeks at his best friend. Rolling his eyes, reminded why he had so much trouble being attracted to normal girls, he nearly stepped in a puddle.

Entering the greenhouse, relieved to be on 'solid' ground, he picked a bench close to the door where he knew Neville often worked after school on his projects. Neville was already there, seated and poring over today's texted assignment.

"Hey, Neville!" The other boy started, and then smiled sheepishly up at him. "Oh, hey Harry. You startled me there."

"Did I? Sorry about that." He settled beside him and pulled out his own text, glancing at the page number Neville's was opened to. "So, how've you been?"

"I've was alright…but my Gran just had a stroke last night, and even though she's in St. Mungo's now and being watched over by my great-uncle, I'm still kind of worried about her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Were you going to send her some flowers or…?"

"I sent her some singing roses yesterday as soon as I heard, but I want to send her some more today once classes are over, but I can't decide what kind. Would you like to help me out? I'm thinking Muggle flowers, actually, since they have some species of narcissi that she likes that you can't get here."

"Sure. I don't mind coming along. It's been a while since I've been in the Muggle world anyway, and they have a different kind of atmosphere that I think I missed a little bit." He laughed a little, flipping through his book and finally getting to the page needed, getting a paper cut in the process. He slipped the finger into his mouth before he could get some blood stains on his white shirt, smiling at Neville to show that he was okay.

From the bench twenty feet away, Draco flushed and looked down, getting a smirk from Blaise. He stomped on his foot under the table for his egregious ways, because if they were not punished they would only get worse from what he'd observed.

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Pulling his sweatshirt hood down farther to protect him from the rain, Harry wondered why exactly this had seemed like a good idea earlier. Neville didn't seem to be bothered by the copious amounts of water seeping down his collar, even whistling a little. Some elderly people smiled at them as they walked by, and Harry did his best to smile back, getting a mouth full of water for his efforts.

Finally entering the tiny flower shop Neville had his eye on; he slumped over to the nearest bench and sat, not noticing who he was seated next to.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" Blinking, he realized whose voice he'd just heard and froze up, the water soaking his hair seeming to turn to ice.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

"I…Jordan, what are _you _doing here?!" Turning to look at him, he took in the changes Jordan had undergone. He was growing a beard of all things, and his hair was a lot longer. He could have sworn he saw a hint of a bruise peeking out from under his collar.

"I'm taking shelter from that god-awful pouring rain."

"No, I mean what are you doing in England." Harry's shock had gone down a little, and he trusted himself to unclench his hands in his pockets now that he knew he wouldn't punch him. He was over any lingering romantic feelings he might have had for him, but the justice-loving side of him was still very angry at the betrayal aspect of their break-up.

"I dropped out of school, and decided to come back here. I've got a flat just a few blocks down the street. What about you?"

"My friend's grandma had a stroke, so we're getting flowers for her and maybe a card." He shrugged, mind rapidly going over the odds of bumping into Jordan like this. "Why'd you drop out?"

When Jordan just looked down, slowly twisting a ring Harry had given him for his birthday around his finger, he hastened to add, "You don't have to tell me if it's personal or…"

"No, its okay. I kind of relapsed into some stuff that I thought I had left behind for good, and then I did some stupid stuff. They would have expelled me sooner or later, so I just dropped out."

"How did your parents take it?"

"They don't talk to me anymore. But I don't want to talk to them anyway, so I don't care." Harry could tell that he really did care, but since Jordan was hiding it he wasn't going to pry. "How are things at your school?"

"They're alright. Nothing too exciting going on nowadays, although we had this horrible teacher for the first half of the school year; she took over the school and even tried to get our Headmaster arrested so she could take over in title as well as function. But a friend and I got her sacked, so school is pretty peaceful these days."

"Whoa, you got a teacher sacked? How did you pull that one off?" Jordan actually sounded interested, so he swallowed the bitter side of him that was screaming at him for not tearing the older boy into shreds so maybe he could experience what he'd done to his heart last year.

"We just exposed her to some enemies she made over the years, and they dealt with her."

"Jeez, Harry, vague much?"

He laughed, mostly to hide his nervousness as he frantically tried to think up some fake details. He couldn't just blurt out that some warlike Centaurs she had pissed off earlier had come riding to his rescue after a giant played with her, dragging the woman kicking and screaming off into the sunset.

Or could he? "Well, I tricked her into following me and one of my best friends into the creepy forest surrounding our school, and some people she had evicted of their homes while she was still working for the government, who had been living in the forest in tents or something, came and kind of mobbed her before dragging her off to do god knows what to her."

Jordan gaped. "You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Um, Harry, isn't that illegal or something?"

"If it was, I wouldn't care and nobody had a problem with Hermione and I doing that to her; hell, there was probably a line of people who would have loved to have done it. Besides, the fact that I attended a juvenile center is already on my records, so having some control-freak teacher dragged off to get her just desserts isn't really too big of a problem."

Neville emerged from the rows of flowers, a small pot containing fragrant white blossoms tucked carefully under his arm. The only time he didn't seem to be clumsy, from what Harry had noticed, was when he was transporting plants.

"Harry, I found the kind she would want- Oh, hello." He stopped short, reverting back to his usual shy self when he caught sight of the strange person Harry had been talking to.

"Neville, this is my…friend, Jordan."

Jordan waved, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Neville."

"Yeah, uh, likewise. Um, Harry, were you going to stay longer to chat with him? Because if you are, I can just go back separately and-"

"No, I think we've updated each other on our respective lives enough." He caught the almost imperceptible flinch Jordan gave, and the cruel side of himself that he both loved and hated cackled, whispering that it served him right.

"Alright. We'll just be going then. Lovely to have met, Jordan." Neville ushered them out, and surprisingly didn't ask any questions about Jordan on the way back, merely smiling at Harry when they reached Hogwarts before leaving again to give his Gran her flowers.

He sighed. At least he wouldn't have to make up explanations for yet another person. Now if only his nightmares would leave him alone tonight, life would be perfect.

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End chapter 27


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Waking up in a cold sweat, he was grateful that he hadn't screamed, since his throat tended to feel dryer than a desert when that happened. Sipping some water, he sat up in bed and used a hand to push aside his curtains to see if any of the other guys had woken. Catching sight of the clock, he sighed when he saw that it was still a few minutes short of four in the morning.

Crawling out of bed, since the covers were starting to feel stifling, he quietly got dressed and headed down the stairs to the Common Room, a copy of the Quibbler, a gift from Luna, under his arm. Selecting the squashiest couch, one often occupied by a drowsy first year or two, he sunk into its cushions and cracked his magazine open.

There was an article about Thestrals, claiming that if breed with Unicorns, they would become some kind of flying zombie horse…

He stopped caring that the articles barely made sense, instead using it as a mental release. He liked to imagine a world in which events like the ones described in the magazine actually happened, which would mean that most of the members of the Wizengamot would have teeth rot from tiny lying fairies said to live in the mouths of the weak-minded, digging cavities in their molars and speaking from there. Needless to say, the concept was amusing, especially since the solution provided by Mr. Lovegood was to remove the entire dental sets of the politicians and have House Elves speak for their masters instead, since House Elves couldn't lie.

"Harry." Something shook his shoulder, jerking his body back and forth, not to mention out of his happy fuzz of sleep.

"Huh? What?" He mumbled, snapping his head up and cracking it against someone else's forehead.

"Ow! Oh, ouch…" he dimly recognized it as Hermione's voice, and was about to ask her what she was doing in the boy's dormitory when he realized that he was sitting upright, if rather slumped, and wearing clothes.

Suddenly remembering what had happened, he sat up and gushed, "Oh my god, Hermione, are you okay?"

Between clutching her head and making whining noises, she nodded, tears in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. That really hurt, though. I always knew you had a thick skull, but-"

"Oh shush. Come on, why'd you wake me up? Its only…" He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, and then screeched, "8:30! Dammit, Hermione, classes start in, like, fifteen minutes!"

"I know, and being the loving best friend I am, I woke you up instead of letting you skip them. You've been skipping a lot of classes lately, and I don't want you getting low scores on your OWLS because of it." She placed her hands on her hips. "And since I woke you up, thus saving you from failing this school year, you have to promise me that you will come with me and Ron to study after classes instead of disappearing."

He mock-groaned, and then said, "Yeah, sure, no problem. Do you mind waiting for a second while I go get my bag?"

"Not at all."

He smiled and headed up the stairs, the slightly crumpled copy of the Quibbler sliding off the sofa and onto the floor by her feet. It was open to an article about Vampire children foster homes.

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"Gah, how do you do this every afternoon?" Harry whispered to Ron, knowing that Hermione could probably still hear him since she took the time to kick him under the table.

"Harry, if you can't concentrate, then leave so I can get back to my assignments." Her voice was snippy, and if it weren't for the slightly crazed look in her eyes, he would have thought he had done something to personally offend her. However, he had noticed last year that once every three weeks, there would be a period of time during which she would be more hormonal than usual, and consume copious amounts of chocolate. As horrifying as the 'birds and the bees' had been, it was also very enlightening at times.

Nodding respectfully since she could very well kick him in the crotch if he didn't obey her, he quietly gathered his books and left the library, nodding to Madam Pince as he left. She glowered at his back, hissing at him that his shoes were too squeaky.

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Entering the kitchens, he greeted Dobby amidst the swarm of helpful elves, was introduced to his alcoholic friend Winky, and spent the dinner hour attempting to pry a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey from the elf's clutches.

He was unsuccessful, and left with a full stomach and some nasty scratches on his hands from her too-long fingernails.

Heading to the Hospital Wing to get some disinfecting cream, he entered to find the nurse nowhere in sight, but he saw that she had left her cupboards unlocked. Reading the labels carefully, to make sure he didn't get the wrong one which would most likely yield disastrous results, he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone asked, "What are you looking for?"

"Disinfectant cream."

"Did you get a scratch?" They came closer, and peered over his shoulder at the shredded areas of his hand. "God, did Granger do that to you?"

Squeaking when he recognized the voice, he turned and saw Draco Malfoy of all people about to touch his hand. Snatching them back, he blushed and wondered why he had done that and why of all things had the thought of the blonde that close to him was making him kind of flustered.

"What are you doing here?"

He held up his hand, revealing a small burn. "I got clumsy while doing some Potions homework. You?"

His voice was so friendly that Harry found himself unconsciously relaxing. For once the Slytherin wasn't sneering or staring at him, so he had no reason to be uneasy. "House Elf possessive of her liquor. She didn't appreciate me trying to reform her."

"Ah." He grinned suddenly, and reached over Harry's shoulder to grab two slim bottles, one containing the bright orange cream he remembered from the Triwizard Tournament and the other clear disinfectant agent. "You might want to find yourself some swabs for this and maybe a bandage if that one doesn't scab over soon." He indicated the largest and deepest gauge, and Harry nodded.

"Thanks. Do you know where the bandages are?"

"Um, I think they are in the third drawer over there." He indicated a set of drawers on wheels tucked into a corner of the room.

He fetched what he needed, discovering that he did indeed need to bandage the gauge, and also that he was having trouble not looking at Draco-

Malfoy. And he was having trouble because he was blonde, and everyone knows that it is hard not to look at blondes.

Nodding to himself, not caring how weird he looked doing so, he finished up his hand and looked up to see that Malfoy had finished and was looking at him again. The Slytherin smiled when he saw that he was looking back, and a funny feeling like someone jump-roping with his intestines took over him.

His face burned, and he quickly left the Hospital Wing. What was wrong with him? And had Malfoy's eyes always been that shade of gray so close to silver?

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End chapter 28


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: who else amongst us can't believe its Halloween already? I mean, what the hell?! Already?!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

His head nodded, chin brushing his chest. Professor Binns would never keep him alert, he was sure…and when had the room become this warm? It was like a warm summer afternoon, when he liked to nap by the pond at the Weasleys-

No! He had promised Hermione that he would make the effort to stay awake the entire time for once in this class, and by Merlin he was going to prove her theory that he hated learning wrong!

Sitting up straighter and organizing his notes to give himself something to do, he sent a defiant look at Hermione, who smirked and rolled her eyes at his immaturity. Left with nothing else to occupy his hands, he began copying down every word that left Binns mouth, nibbling on the edge of his tongue to jolt himself when his eyelids drooped.

He blinked slowly, starting when a glance at the clock revealed that he had drifted off unintentionally for a minute or two. Looking over at Hermione, he caught her grinning at him, waggling her eyebrows in challenge.

Since he'd already given in, he slumped into the hard bench and tried to imagine it was his soft bed, the daydream illusion succeeding and lulling him into sleep.

_The halls were bright with spring sunshine, and the ancient apple trees said to have been saplings when the Founders still ruled the school were in full bloom, the pale pink petals flying through the air whenever the wind blew, reminding him strongly of a blizzard. It was pretty warm out, too, and he was comfortable in the short sleeves of his pajamas._

_Why was he wearing pajamas during the day? He didn't know, and nobody was looking at him funny so he decided not to care. He passed some Hufflepuffs whose faces seemed to be streaked with something red-_

_Was that blood? Bile filled his mouth when the smell hit him full-on, and he could see that the students who had looked perfectly whole a moment ago were now screaming and thrashing on the ground, skin battered and eyes helpless. What was happening? What was going on and why wasn't Dumbledore doing something? The Headmaster was standing against the wall, staring silently at his screaming students, emotionless and without any sign of assisting him in trying to hold them down so they wouldn't hurt themselves while they rolled around on the floor. His ears ached from the sounds they made and his heart as well._

_Feeling a prickling sensation along his skin as his hair stood on end, he looked up from the dying Ravenclaw who resembled Cho to see Voldemort floating down the hall towards him, chuckling under his breath._

"_You did this!"_

"_No, Harry, he did. And you helped him. Don't you remember? After all, they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions and what intention could possibly be more good than the desire for peace in the world at any cost? Even the cost of innocent lives you were willing to pay for your precious dream…and now look at what the consequences are. But of course you don't care about that now, do you? You've achieved everything you've ever fought for, sacrificed their lives for yours. Aren't you happy?"_

_He choked, feeling like he was about to cry but at the same time determined not to give him the satisfaction. "You're lying! All you do is lie, so why should I listen to you? We both know that you are the one who killed them, not me."_

"_On the contrary, it was neither of you." Dumbledore's voice was light and cheerful, and it made his blood run colder than Voldemort could ever chill it._

_He stepped away from the shadowy wall and into the light, grinning. "It was me, and now I will kill you too since I was never good at sharing. Just like Gellert, you are useful for a time, but then you start thinking that you are the one in control, and I can't let such delusional people walk freely. It's nothing personal, Harry. You've just outlived your purpose." _

_He raised his wand, aimed it at Harry's heart as he stared, frozen, at the man a part of him had stubbornly trusted despite massive amounts of evidence showing him that he was a dangerous man, one who ought not to be trusted with the ultimate well-being of any child, much less many thousands. _

"_Avada Kedavra!" the green light arched, and then hit him straight in the chest, knocking him back. But he didn't feel the cold flagstones…no, he was already dead and standing beside his body as a mere wisp of a spirit, wondering when it had all gone pear-shaped._

Gasping, he shot out of his seat, knocking his ink bottle and quills off of his desk. Everyone in the classroom flinched at stared at him while he stood, panting and darting his eyes around to try and see if there was anyone dead or injured in the vicinity. All he saw was rows of staring students, some snickering, some indifferent.

"Sit down, Potter, I can't see!" A Slytherin he recognized dimly as Zabini or Zamboni called out, waving a hand in irritation.

"Oh, uh, sorry." He sat quickly, face heating up in embarrassment. The snickers increased before dying off into snores. Ron was looking at him questioningly, and he waved his hand, whispering, "Just an upsetting dream, that's all."

Ron smiled and nodded, but Harry couldn't help but wonder. And who was Gellert?

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Curled into a corner of his cell, the part closest to the furnace from what he remembered of the prison's construction, he hugged his now-knobby knees and stared blankly at the wall across from him. Despite his body's lax and absent appearance, his mind was actively functioning, imagining ever more creative ways to tear a certain redhead, although his hair was bound to be beyond gray after all these years, into teeny tiny pieces. He bared his teeth, almost tasting the other's blood and feeling the pain he could give to him if he so much as was given the chance to leave the cell that had imprisoned him for the past 14 years. They moved him every fifteen years to a new cell, just in case he was digging tunnels or passages that the guards couldn't detect, but their efforts were wasted.

His magic, fueled by resentment and self-righteous anger at being kept cooped up in a series of cells for years, was building steadily, and soon, very soon, it would help him break free from this frigid cage. He couldn't wait, and he was looking forward to seeing the look on Albus' face when he came to teach him that you can never stab a Grindelwald in the back and not find three knives sticking out of your own afterwards.

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End chapter 29


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Another shudder went through Albus, making him drop his quill. He had been twitching lately, feeling like he was being watched by someone with destructive intentions. Extensive checks for dark magic, light magic, and any kind of presence that could be causing it came up blank, with the merest hint of smoky residue when he used the keenest ones, which couldn't possibly be having the intense effect he was experiencing.

Picking up his quill, he went back to filling out the forms authorizing a man named Ignatius Milton to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to the students between first and last year, since his credentials said that he was capable of instructing all age groups competently. He hadn't had a chance to meet the man face-to-face, but he had been recommended by a very old friend of his, whom had proven himself trustworthy time and time again, so he was taking his qualifications on faith. Besides, if he was related to the Wizarding Milton family, know for their moral respectability and enduring ethics, and then he couldn't have had less to worry about.

Signing his signature, and making it sloppier than usual courtesy of his shaking fingers, he rolled up the parchments and handed them to Fawkes, who disappeared in a flash of fire that burnt his toast to brittle ashes.

He sighed. So much for breakfast, then; Minerva would scold him if she found out he'd skipped it yet again.

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The clouds pulsed, the air streaking as rain shot down as fast as Muggle bullets, beating the new grass and flattening the first plants Professor Sprout had placed outside, hopefully believing that the weather would now be kind enough to let them prosper. She'd been wrong, it would seem.

Resting his chin on his palm, Harry stared out at the storm, the occasional flashes of lightning reflecting off his glasses and making him blink to try and clear the after-images. No such luck, but still he watched nature's carnage, fascinated by the angle the wind was bending the younger trees.

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

"Hm?" He looked and saw Ginny fidgeting awkwardly, wearing what he recognized as one of her fancier dresses. Sure, it was Saturday, but Hogsmeade had been cancelled because of the storm, so he didn't see why she had gotten dressed up. "Yeah, sure."

"Um, can we go somewhere else, somewhere more…private?" she looked around at the students quietly socializing in the Common Room, cheeks pink. He wondered if she was embarrassed or wearing make-up.

"Where did you want to go?"

"Um…"

Since she looked blank, he offered, "I'm kind of hungry, do you want to go the kitchens, or would House Elves count as company?"

She giggled, sounding strained beneath her mirth. "No, House Elves are okay."

"Alright, then, wanna go now?"

She nodded, and he stood, leading the way out of the portrait. Why was she being so awkward and just weird about this, anyway? He hoped he hadn't done something to piss her off, and that she wasn't just waiting until there were no witnesses to see her brutally castrate him. His stomach turned, and he felt ghost pain from his mental images. He pushed them away quickly before he could make himself throw up or start begging her to forgive him, which would look really, really weird if she just wanted to have a heart-to-heart.

Tickling the pear, he entered and waved away the crowd of House Elves, saying that he just wanted some cut fruit if they had it. He was presented with a massive platter of fruit of he was sure every kind under the sun, and selected a pomegranate before they could convince him to take more than one. Ginny took a bunch of grapes, sitting shyly beside him on their bench. He wondered what she had to be shy about- he'd known her at least informally since she was eleven!

"So…what's going on?"

"I…well, Harry, I just wanted to tell you that i…" She trailed off, face so red he began to get worried.

"Ginny, are you okay?"

She shook her head, covering her mouth and standing quickly. The House Elves made a wide berth for her except two, who helped find a sink quickly. She bent over the edge of it and retched, streams of chunky fluid in strange colors leaving her mouth. She gagged, and coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when she was done.

Harry came over and rubbed her back, asking if she wanted him to take her to the Hospital Wing. She shook her head, trying, failing, and then succeeding in saying, "I was just kind of nauseous. I think there were mushrooms in the soup I had at lunch today."

Ginny was intolerant of mushrooms, eggplant, and certain ways of preparing eggs because of the reaction her throat had to the texture.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So…what were you going to tell me?"

"Oh…uh, well, next Hogsmeade weekend, did you want to…to go with me?"

"Huh?"

"Do…do you want to-"

"No, no, I heard you. I was just…surprised. But yeah, I'll go with you."

Ginny seemed to glow, and then she hugged him tight enough that he could smell the faint stench of vomit lingering on her breath. He hid his grimace, not wanting to embarrass her or anything.

His eyes suddenly widened. What if Ginny thought this was a date or something?

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End chapter 30


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: I did a spell-check on the name 'Lucius', and the first option was locust *wide-eyed*

Chapter Thirty-One

"What is wrong, my lord?" Lucius kept his voice low, and his head bowed in submission. His knees ached, and the abandoned hotel the Dark Lord had cleared of beggars (by slaughtering them, naturally) was both drafty and seemingly in possession of a chill that could not be logically or magically explained. The Dark Lord had decided to stay here when he had picked up some strange sort of magical aura coming from it, and tried to locate its source when not giving orders or making plans for Muggle abductions. They weren't killing any of their targets for now, instead corralling them in the rooms on the upper levels. Several of them had disappeared and turned back up in pieces, their faces shredded as if from claws, and the whole matter gave him the shivers. But if this was where his Master wanted to settle for now, then his will would be obeyed.

He sighed, sounding irritated. "Nothing is wrong, Lucius, everything is going exactly as I planned it…and that's the trouble. It's too perfect, and Potter is putting up no resistance! Dumbledore must be doing something I don't know about…"

If he wasn't afraid for his life, he would have rolled his eyes. Every time he thought that maybe there was a sliver of the old Tom, before this whole 'pure world' thing had gone downhill, he was proven wrong. No matter how hopeful he became, the Dark Lord was completely out of his mind and would stay out of his mind. All he could really hope for was that he would continue to think that his son was spineless and weak-minded, or else Draco might also be roped into his sphere of control.

After what had happened to his first son, he wasn't sure he could bear losing his second, even if Draco could take care of himself.

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Humming, he wandered through the sweets shop, Ginny munching on a bar of chocolate beside him. They hadn't really spoken since she'd approached him and quietly asked if he was ready to go, but he didn't mind the silence. To tell the truth, her voice sometimes got on his nerves. He wasn't going to say anything about it of course, and had no intention of starting a conversation since it would probably just get awkward. Besides, he might blurt out that this wasn't a date, no matter how much Seamus Finnigan was waggling his eyebrows at him from across the aisles.

Sticking his tongue out at the blonde, he got in line, a foot-long glowing worm thing in his hand. He had no idea what it was, and knowing magical candy that could be a very bad thing, but it was eye-catching _and _cheap, so he'd decided to get it.

"Those are really good."

"Oh, you like them?"

Ginny nodded. "Fred and George used to save up when they were little and buy the extra large ones. They'd chase each other around with it, saying it was a snake or something, depending on the day, and they'd eat it bite-by-bite as they went. Mom used to yell at them about choking…" She laughed quietly, and Harry barely concealed his cringe. Ginny was a nice girl, but good god she was irritating. The mental image of little Fred and George trying to strangle each other with candy was mildly amusing, though.

"Well, did you want some?" the man handed him his change, and he placed some Knuts in the donations jar. He wasn't too familiar with Wizarding Charity, but since he had some extra, he might as well give it to someone who didn't have enough.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

He tore off some of the end, squeaking when some kind of orange fluid came spurting out of the inside, but since Ginny wasn't panicking he decided that that must be normal or something. He handed it to her, and she began sucking on it, re-wrapping the foil around her chocolate and placing it in her purse.

Hesitantly, he placed the end in his mouth, and grinned when he tasted some kind of fizzy combination of passion fruit, tangerine, and what he was pretty sure was coconut. Ginny had been right- this _was _good.

"Did you want to go in there?" She indicated the same shack he had rented port keys from, and since he hadn't had time to truly browse through everything he had for sale, he nodded and gently grabbed her elbow to lead her towards it when she stumbled on the curb. She was blushing, so he pretended he hadn't noticed her moment of clumsiness.

Some strange breed of bird, resembling the lovechild of a very fat pigeon and a bat, squawked harshly when they opened the door, and he narrowed his eyes at it. It promptly silenced, puffing up its feathers and hiding behind them.

"Hey, what are you kids doing? This isn't Lovers Lane!" The Goblin came out from the back room, hands on his tiny hips and a pair of goggles hanging around his neck. "Oh, its you." He said dismissively when he saw Harry. "You come back to grace me with your presence, or are you merely here to impress your girlfriend?"

"What girlfriend?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed. Ginny sucked in a breath, and he could feel her muscles stiffening beneath his fingers. What was wrong with her?

"Ginny, are you feeling nauseas again?" She nodded, and rushed out of the store. Sparing a glare for the Goblin, who grinned with his pointy yellow teeth at his back, he exited the store in time to pull Ginny's red hair back from her face so she wouldn't get it dirty.

"Ugh, thanks Harry."

"Are you sure you're okay, Ginny? This is the second time you've thrown up around me so far…"

"I…I just get an upset stomach when I'm nervous."

"What are you nervous about?" He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth with, signaling for her to keep it when she tried to give it back.

"Stuff."

He laughed. "Am I not allowed to know what the stuff is?"

She was answering, his ears told him, but he was no longer truly paying attention, eyes fixed on Draco

Malfoy-

Draco-

Dammit, Draco was walking around between Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, who were having some kind of argument around him. Since Blaise was a head taller than him, being freakishly tall in the words of Luna, and Pansy was about two shorter, it was entertaining to watch. But he wasn't watching them; no they were as much background noise as the ants crawling on the pavement and Ginny's voice.

The sun had come out of the clouds briefly, and shone down in golden rays directly onto Draco, turning his platinum hair to gold and his skin to something…something white and perfect. Harry almost slapped himself when he realized how poetic he was getting, but the sight was spectacular nevertheless. But then he walked out of its range, and the sun disappeared.

He was left feeling strangely disappointed, and his eyes followed the blonde until he disappeared into one of the expensive little shops that sold odds and ends like quality quills and parchment imported from Egypt.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Did you want to go back in?" She indicated the shop, and he smiled.

"Yeah, sure."

They left for the Castle 45 minutes later, Ginny with a little locket that could shrink multiple pictures and display the ones she wanted at will. Harry considered getting a book on Ancient Wizarding Games that had looked brutally entertaining, with lots of blood-smattered illustrations, but it had been a bit too expensive.

"I had a nice time, Harry." She stood on her toes, looking frightening like she was about to kiss him, of all things. Turning his head, he ensured that her offending mouth got the far side of his cheek, smiling sweetly at her before heading off to the library, unaware of her disappointed frown.

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End chapter 31


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

"A dance?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, it's supposed to be the evening after the last OWLS examinations, and held in the Great Hall."

"Whose idea was it? I don't remember there being one last year…" He scratched his chin, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been doing a lot of that lately, but he couldn't help it. What was the point of having a school with fascinating ceilings if you didn't look at them? He'd discovered a number of murals on the higher levels, and wondered how they'd gotten there.

"It was cancelled last year because of…well, because Cedric died. And the year before a lot of events were cancelled because the teachers didn't want large crowds of students with the threat of Sirius Black lingering." She turned the page of her Star Maps volume, picking up a magnifying glass and bending her neck down to pick out a small constellation, scribbling some information about it on the sheet of parchment beside her.

"Oh. Are you going?"

"I haven't decided yet. I don't have a date, since Ron is going with Lavender and I don't think Ginny would appreciate me taking you." She laughed, rolling up her parchment and closing the book.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He helped her stack the books, taking a larger stack and following her to the sections she had retrieved them from.

"Don't play coy with me, Harry. Don't think I haven't noticed how she now sits next to you at lunch, that you study together, and of course the little jaunts to Hogsmeade. Knowing how much she's like her mother, I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to murder me if I asked you to the dance."

"But…we're not dating."

Hermione stopped, turned, and raised her eyebrows. "Does _she _know that?"

"I…uh…"

"I didn't think so. Harry, you can't just lead her on like this-"

"I'm not leading her on!"

She held up a hand. "Harry, I know you would never do something like this intentionally, so its my duty to point out to you that Ginny thinks she is your girlfriend, and I have never seen her so happy about something before, which is not a good sign for you. I suggest, as your only chance to lower the risk of her tearing your man parts to shreds, that you either develop feelings for her or flee the country."

"Are those my only options?"

"Well, you could commit suicide but-"

He waved his hands. "No, no, I think that option is going off the consideration list."

"Good. So…which country were you thinking of migrating to?"

He smacked her arm playfully, heading out of the shelves with her on his heels, practically tip-toeing so Madam Pince wouldn't do something drastic like banish him from the library for a week. When they had safely exited its area, he replied, "I think I'll risk my future fertility and explain to her that I don't swing that way."

"You do realize that she might not react too well to you being gay, right?"

"What do you mean? I thought Wizards would be more open-minded to homosexuals since the rest of society discriminates against Magical Folk."

She shook her head, looking kind of sad, "There's a mixed reaction, of course, but overall its something accepted but not talked about. I wouldn't advertise it, if I were you, Boy Who Lived or not."

He bit his lip, sparing a glance out the windows and admiring the sweeping landscape of green grass and leafy trees. It was a beautiful day, and he only wished he could enjoy it instead of agonizing over the news that he could never openly admit his sexuality in the Wizarding World, nor make any 'moves' on any of his peers for fear of rumors.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She opened her mouth, no doubt about to ask him more probing questions, but Ron came around the corner with Lavender Brown hugging his arm, talking excitedly together about what they were going to do before the dance.

Hermione's fists clenched and Harry chose to not point it out, nodding politely to Lavender and smiling at Ron. "Hey, Ron, do you know anything about this dance? Like, do we have to have a date, or can we come alone?"

"Um…I'm pretty sure a date is optional. But you don't have to go alone, Harry! There's still time to snag a decent girl-"

"Nah, I think I'll go alone, if I go at all." Ginny rounded the same corner, her head snapping up when she heard his comment.

"Go alone where?"

"Huh? Oh, to the dance. Are you going?"

"Well, I thought we were going together."

"What?" Harry and Ron asked at the same time, Harry confused and Ron sounding a little angrier than Harry thought the situation called for.

"Since I'm your girlfriend-" She blushed, "I assumed we were going together."

He had hoped it wouldn't be so soon, and that they wouldn't have an audience consisting of his best friends and a random girl he found kind of annoying. "Ginny, we're not dating. I'm sorry if I somehow led you on, but I swear it wasn't intentional. Forgive me?"

She blinked, opened her mouth, and then screamed. Even Ron stopped glaring long enough to wince in sympathy.

In the library, checking out a new book on the latest magical inventions, Draco Malfoy's head snapped up and he felt distinct pain in his ears, as if some kind of supersonic sound wave had just tortured them. What the hell?

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End chapter 32


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Listlessly lolling in bed, Draco plaintively asked, "Blaise, what is there to do around here?"

Now that the crunch time of frantic studying for OWLS was over, he seemed to have far too much free time on his hands. The party was tonight, but he wasn't sure he would have gone at all if there hadn't been literally nothing else to do. And besides, Pansy would have been very upset with him if he hadn't asked her to go with him. He observed that she was slowly accepting his lack of romantic interest, but still forbid him from 'fraternizing' with other girls other than Millicent Bulstrode, whom she considered safe since she knew that Draco didn't date people taller than him. Millicent had passed 6 feet in fourth year, and was the tallest girl in their House in the past fifty years, the previous girl being her grandmother.

And speaking of Millicent, she came stalking into the Boy's Dormitories, her thick braid of hair lashing from side to side with her abrupt movements. When he'd been younger, he was fascinated when her hunching shuffle transformed into the decisive movements she made now, and had eventually worked up the nerve to ask. Her answer had been simple and brusque, and she'd said, "My father finally died."

He still hadn't figured that one out, but he wasn't going to ask for clarification because she could break his neck with her bare hands if he made her angry enough.

"Hello, Millie. What are you doing in here?" another unexplained detail regarding her was her ability to pass through restricting wards meant to separate the genders, or any other category from what he'd seen. When they needed someone to go into the Teacher's Hall, a quick bribe to her was all that was needed.

"I'm looking for Knott. Have you seen him?"

"I thought he was going to the Owlery to mail a letter to his parents, and I'm pretty sure its about his OWLS."

She nodded. "Thanks."

And with that she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving and Blaise alone with the snoring Vincent napping on his bed. Too much studying and test-taking tended to wear his lackeys out. They slept and ate far more than normal Wizards, but he wasn't about to ask them to change their habits since they became downright evil when hungry and behaved kind of strange when they got as little as five minutes less than their usual amount of sleep. They weren't stupid- they just were sleeping when other students studied.

Vincent stirred, clutched a fold of the covers, and sank back into deep sleep. Blaise didn't even look up from his copy of the Quibbler, a ridiculous rag of a magazine that specialized in conspiracy theories and interviews with little known Wizarding geniuses.

Plucking a loose thread from his quilt and throwing it at the dark-featured boy, Draco rolled out of the way when Blaise unexpectedly pounced at the spot where he'd been a second ago.

"Can't catch me!" Draco teased, anxious for any kind of distraction and dancing out of the way when Blaise swiped at him, grinning ear-to-ear.

"You sure about that, kid?"

"Hey, just because I'm shorter than you doesn't mean I'm a-" he had his hands on his hips and was going into full lecture mode, but Blaise tackled him in his moment of weakness. Pinning his hands above his head so he couldn't claw him like a girl, he said,

"What have you got to say for yourself now, eh?"

"Your crotch is about to be kneed. Just thought you should know."

"Hey-"

Draco's knee connected with it as he'd said, and the bigger boy curled into a ball, moaning. "Oh god, Draco, why are you such an evil bastard?"

"Answer me first why you're such an ignorant ass."

"I am _not _an ignorant ass!"

"Oh yeah? Then how come you still confuse bat wings with beetle backs, even though I've been correcting you since we were six?" Draco sat up, back resting against the door of their general closet, arms crossed.

"Because they look exactly the same!"

"They do not!"

"Yes they do! Admit it, Potions genius!"

"Why would I admit something that isn't true?"

The door opened and Theodore Knott came in with a black eye. "What's not true?"

"Oi, what happened to you?!" Blaise sat up, leaning his weight on Draco and ignoring the blonde's attempts to shove him off.

"Millicent found out that I kissed Daphne-"

"Whoa, what were you doing kissing my girlfriend?" Blaise demanded, standing and approaching, his height intimidating the shorter boy into craning his neck back and cringing into himself.

"Hey, I was drinking, and I thought she was that cute Hufflepuff I've been eyeing…Millicent punched me because she thought I knew she liked me. I mean, I've never thought about Millie like that…" He rubbed his forehead distractedly. "But she hugged me in the Owlery, and I really wanted to kiss her or something and-"

Blaise sighed. "I'm going to let it slide that you snogged my girlfriend, but I'm off to ask her why the hell she didn't tell me nothing about this…" He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Draco raised an eyebrow at Ted. "You're an idiot, but now I kind of want to know how you and Millie would even be anatomically possible since you're shorter than most girls."

"Wanker…" Ted hissed at him, grinning a moment later and pulling off his school sweater. "It's hot these days."

"You're not."

Ted smacked him upside the head as he walked out, calling over his shoulder, "How hot can you be if you still haven't made a move on Potter?"

"What makes you think I don't have something planned for tonight?"

"I'd like to see that, except you probably won't do anything anyways." Ted rolled his eyes, exiting the room.

Draco mumbled something under his breath and got out what he was wearing that night, making sure it was wrinkle-free before heading for the shower. He'd show Ted.

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End chapter 33

Behold the all-Draco chapter!


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Smoothing his shirt, Harry gave himself an once-over, ignoring Ron's snickers as his best friend tied his shoelaces. His hair was behaving better these days now that he was growing it out, although the fringe that he had been praying would cover his scar from the greedy eyes of reporters was stubbornly hugging the side of his face, leaving his scar on display.

Since when did he care what he looked like, anyway? With a blush he realized that he was hoping against hope that Draco was going to be out tonight, and if he was lucky he wouldn't have the Parkinson girl hanging off his arm. Once he'd honestly admitted, about 10 minutes ago in the shower to be exact, that he wanted something more with Draco, he had been filled with a fierce desire to kill or otherwise seriously maim Miss Parkinson.

"Harry, if you keep admiring yourself, I'm going to start suspecting you of being my girlfriend in Polyjuice." Ron combed his fingers through his hair, wincing when he hit a tangle and pulled it.

"Fine, I'm done. Caring about how I look is very time consuming anyway…time that could be spent lying in bed staring at the ceiling." They grinned at each other, Ron jokingly taking Harry's arm like he would a date. "We shouldn't keep our dates waiting much longer."

"Yeah…that could be bad." Scuffing a hand through his hair, he opened the door and ushered his much taller friend forward.

At the foot of the stairs Hermione was reading a Muggle Physics manual, leaning her hip against the banner. Since it wasn't a formal party, she wasn't wearing some fancy dress, but she was still wearing a skirt and some kind of frilly shirt that caused Ron's brain waves to change shape and move in different directions as he absorbed how pretty she'd gotten in the space between when she changed out of her school uniform and into what she was now wearing. Having apparently noticed them, she looked up and smiled.

The fact that Lavender was standing right next to her, wearing less clothes than should be allowed, was completely ignored by the redhead until Harry grabbed his shoulder and moved him towards his girlfriend, snagging an arm around Hermione's shoulders simultaneously.

"You look nice, Ronnie!" Lavender cooed, standing on her toes and pecking his cheek. He flushed, but didn't seem to be able to give her his full attention, eyes drifting to Hermione every few seconds while he nodded to whatever Lavender was chattering about.

"Did you guys want to go?" Hermione spoke up, shrinking her book and tucking it into her shirt.

"Oh, heh, yeah." Ron offered his arm to Lavender, who took it with a smile. Harry and Hermione followed them out the doors, meeting up with a smug Ginny who was practically dragging Dean behind her. He didn't seem to mind, apparently too occupied with how short her skirt was instead of realizing that she was just using him to try and make Harry jealous.

When they entered the Great Hall, Harry made sure Hermione was comfy between two Ravenclaws from the D.C. and holding a possibly spiked glass of punch before he disappeared to see if he could find Draco anywhere. His goal was to at least engage him in non-violent conversation, maybe more before the night was out. His father might be a evil Death Eater, and he might have thought he was a complete ponce for the first 4 years of school here, but he knew more about how people worked now. No one could possibly that one-dimensional, and Draco was not his father.

And speaking of him, there he was! Parkinson wasn't talking to him, either, instead sitting at the other end of their table talking to her usual groupies, fiddling with a shiny stone around her neck. She looked really pretty (and not like a pug at all), and Harry began to feel self-conscious. How was he supposed to compete with that?

Lost in his self-bashing thoughts, he didn't notice Draco himself coming shyly over to stand next to him against the wall.

"It's a nice evening."

Harry started, and then flushed. "Uh-huh." He wracked his brains for something to say, but he had been so occupied with strategies to prevent getting hexed or punched that a topic of conversation hadn't come up.

"You…you look nice."

"Really?" Harry looked over at him, blinking when their noses bumped. Draco laughed a little, and moved his head so their noses no longer touched. Harry found himself missing the soft press of flesh against him, even if it was in as strange a place as his nose.

"Yeah." Was it just him, or was the blonde's voice a little breathier than appropriate?

"Well…you look great too."

"Thank you, Potter."

"You can call me Harry, now that we're not fighting just this moment." Harry shrugged, doing his best to look casual even as he panicked over whether or not Draco was going to make fun of him and go running back to his pretty girlfriend.

"I wouldn't mind if we didn't fight anymore at all."

"Oh? But then what would Crabbe and Goyle do with themselves if you didn't have them acting as your bodyguards?" Harry smirked, not realizing that the sharp intake Draco gave at the sight of it was attraction bordering on arousal.

"That's true…they might even stop eating for a few hours from grief."

"Who would stop eating from grief?"

Harry, who hadn't seen Vincent Crabbe come over, or ever heard his voice for that matter, jumped. The Slytherin boy's voice was surprisingly deep, and he was holding a plate piled with food. "You want a doughnut? I got you one of the ones you like." He offered a sticky one with jam, and Draco gracefully accepted it, taking a small bite.

"Thanks, Vincent."

"So…who isn't eating?"

"Oh, we were just kidding that if I ditched you and Greg then you guys would get too depressed to eat."

"Oh." He nodded, digging a fork out of his trouser pocket and using it to spear some pasta. When he'd swallowed a mouthful, he said, "Yell if Potter here gives you any trouble. I'm going to find Greg before he gets too cozy with that Lovegood girl."

Harry stared, and then scanned the room until he saw Luna's long blonde hair beside Gregory Goyle's stocky body, chattering happily about something while making diagrams on the table with her hands. He actually looked genuinely interested in what she was saying, nodding and feeding her bites of his assortment of food. She didn't seem to mind the interruptions to chew, almost bouncing in place as they chatted.

He blinked. "I didn't know they let younger years in here."

"Me neither, but McGonagall hasn't said anything yet, so I guess Loony is safe for now."

Harry scowled, not knowing the internal panic attack he caused in the taller boy. "She's not crazy, she's just really special and thinks differently."

"So you know her, then?"

Was that jealousy he heard? "Um, yeah, a little. we study together sometimes, and feed the Thestrals. She's got some interesting theories on our Ministry, too. They're not always believable, but very entertaining."

"Hm." Draco seemed kind of distracted now, and when Harry followed his eyes he saw that Parkinson was looking curiously at them, squinting slightly. He couldn't have been happier that they were standing against the wall and in the shadows, or else she might try to ambush him later with a steak knife.

"Hey, do you want to go somewhere more private?"

"Uh…sure." Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but when else was he going to get the chance to talk to him undisturbed?

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End chapter 34

I think I have a fever 


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Random quote I felt the urge to share: "Everyone wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die."

Chapter Thirty-Five

Sticking his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from fiddling with his hair like a girl, Harry tilted his head back to admire the spring moon. It was half-full, so Remus wasn't in some kind of excruciating agony and imprisonment right now, but he found himself missing the werewolf. He might not know him very well, but he was one of the last links to his parents he had left, the other being Sirius since the Headmaster had practically refused outright to discuss his parents with him.

Draco came over to stand next to him beside the trellis, sipping a cup of punch that smelled pungently of Ogden's Fire Whisky. "Did you want some?"

"Um, no. I don't drink."

Draco laughed quietly. "Of course you don't- you're the Golden Boy."

Harry looked at him sharply, suddenly feeling kind of insulted. "What's that supposed to mean?" He snapped, wincing at how sharp it came out. Draco flinched, and then dropped his eyes to the floor, shrugging.

"I don't know. It's just a label, I guess. What does it mean to you?" He looked up, silver-gray eyes reflecting the moon. He blinked, tilting his head so it wasn't blinding him anymore.

"I never thought of myself as some kind of high-and-mighty Golden Boy-"

"And I'm not saying you are."

Harry blinked, and then looked back up at the moon. Without thinking, he asked, "Why are you being so nice tonight?"

"Because I find it hard to be mean to someone I…"

"You?" he felt a little breathless now, and scolded his lungs for abandoning him right when his brain needed oxygen the most.

"…I wouldn't want to be mean to somebody I am trying to make friends with."

"Oh." He felt a deep disappointment, and scowled at himself. What business did he have being upset? Draco was a Wizard, and Wizards didn't like gay people from what Hermione had said.

"Are you alright?" Draco touched his shoulder tentatively, and Harry couldn't bring himself to brush it off, no matter how tightly his heart was clenching. Why had he been so stupid as to think that Draco was actually flirting with him? He had a pretty girlfriend, both parents, and a place to call home. Harry just didn't fit into that picture, or that world.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He pretended to yawn, raising the arm Draco was holding to cover his mouth with his hand. He almost missed the hurt look on the blonde's face, barely catching it out of the corner of his eye and wondering what was up. "Are you?" He was probably just missing his girlfriend…

"No. you were smiling a little before, but now you've gone back to that pensive look you wear so much these days. Did I say something wrong? Because if I did, I'm sorry, and I didn't mean to. I've got a big mouth, have always had it, and sometimes I say things that are mean and I hurt people's feelings."

"You didn't do anything. I'm just depressed a lot lately."

"Oh, so the legendary teenaged moodiness has struck even you? The rest of us now have no hope of ever avoiding it."

Against his will, Harry snickered and cracked a small smile, turning to look at Draco. Draco smiled back, eyes gentle, and found himself leaning down gradually, Harry lips seeming to call him. He would probably get punched for this, and then disowned by his father when he found out, but he was too close to really consider the risks seriously.

Harry's eyes went wider than saucers when he felt Draco's breath on his chin, but they grew to dinner-plate dimensions when his cheeks were softly pressed from the hands cupping them, and something warm, wet, and rather lovely touched his mouth. Without bothering to think about the repercussions, since the worst was already done, he removed his hands from his pockets and wrapped his arms around the Slytherin's shoulders, tilting his body slightly to the side so their noses wouldn't get in the way.

Draco made a happy noise in his throat, a cross between a hum and a mumble, running his left hand up Harry's face to stroke the shell of his ear and then tug carefully on his curly hair. Harry smiled and shifted closer, their chests bumping.

"Heh, whoops."

"Ssh." Draco kissed his jaw, making his face tingle. Harry realized that he must be blushing something terrible, and he was kissing some guy he barely knew, but he felt too nice to mind.

"Harry? Harry, are you out here?" Hermione's voice broke the silence, and they quickly moved apart when her footsteps came closer.

"I-"

"You-"

Harry ducked his head, embarrassed. "You go first."

"Harry, I don't want to…I want…I want to do this again, later, when you don't have to go so soon."

"But what about Parkinson?"

Draco looked confused. "What about her?"

"Well, aren't you guys dating or something?"

Draco laughed quietly. "No. well, I better go before Granger catches me here. See you later!" he turned and disappeared into the gardens, the wind rustling the flowering bushes concealing the sound of his retreat.

"Harry? Oh, there you are! Why didn't you answer me?" Her hair was half-undone, and she looked kind of flushed.

"Huh? I was just kind of lost in my thoughts. What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" She answered quickly, nervously smoothing her skirt. "Its almost 2 in the morning, so I came to tell you goodnight and see if you wanted to go back to the dormitory with me."

"Yeah, sure, I'll come. If I stay out here much longer I might think myself to death." They laughed, and she tugged on his arm to get him going.

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On opposite sides of the Castle, two boys lay awake in bed grinning ear-to-ear. One was the only one awake, surrounded by the loud snoring of his best friend and dorm mates, the other ignoring Blaise as he rambled about some party that he had gone to last week.

"Draco, what the hell is wrong with you? You're not paying attention to me!" Blaise poked Draco's side, moving close enough to scrutinize his expression in the dim lighting of their dorm.

"I kissed him."

"Kissed who?"

Draco continued, ignoring the interruption."And he kissed me back and wants to do it again.

"Whoa, whoa, who is this? Potter?"

Spying the dorky smile on his friend's face, he knew he had guessed right. And being a good friend, he did the thing all good friends do when they feel the call of duty.

He slapped him.

"Are you crazy?!"

Draco absently rubbed his cheek, where Blaise's hand had connected with his delicate skin. "I think I am, Blaise. Oh, but he was so soft and he smelled like flowers...."

"I can't believe I'm hearing these words coming out of your mouth." Blaise shook his head, disgusted at his idiocy. "And what kind of boy smells like flowers, anyway?"

"The kind that tastes like chocolate."

"I didn't want to know that, Draco. Congratulations, you have just scarred me for life."

"Sorry." Draco mumbled, turning onto his stomach and hugging his pillow to himself, something he hadn't done since first year when he missed the goodnight hugs his mother used to give him.

Blaise sighed. This was hopeless, so he might as well accept it and support his friend no matter what godforsaken infatuation he had somehow fallen into. "Good night, Draco."

"G'night." Draco's eyes slipped close, and he nuzzled his face against his covers.

Across the Castle, Harry rolled onto his back for the tenth time, hugging himself and wishing he wasn't alone for the first time since the horrors of puberty-caused dreams and the first few nights away from Jordan.

"Good-bye, old me." He could feel the easily-depressed, nightmare-ridden side of him that had caused him so much distress lifting out of him and he imagined it sailing out the crack in the window, never to come bother him again.

His dreams were vague, but he distinctly remembered blonde hair when he awoke.

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End chapter 35


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Twisting the end of his tie through his fingers, Harry shifted uncomfortably in the chintz arm chair the Headmaster had conjured for him before disappearing into some kind of closet. He wasn't sure why he had been pulled out of breakfast, but he was reviewing his past activities to see if he'd done anything bad lately. All he could come up with was kissing Draco last night, but the Headmaster probably didn't know about that, since they'd been quite alone.

Dumbledore reappeared, smiling and holding a thin wooden box in his hands. Setting it on the edge of his desk, he seated himself and opened it. Inside were several neat rows of gold-wrapped chocolates, and he offered the box to Harry after selecting one for himself. Even though he was hungry, he shook his head.

"You're sure? I got them from some Curse Breakers in Africa. They're said to be very good, indeed."

"It's alright sir; I don't like to eat sweets in the morning. It upsets my stomach."

"If you're sure. Well, Harry, I'm sure you are wondering why you're here."

"Yes, sir. Have…have I done something wrong, sir?"

Dumbledore waved his hands reassuringly. "No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to have a chat, to see how you are doing."

"Oh." He shifted. Was he supposed to say something else?

"How are you liking class?"

He shrugged. "The studying for OWLS was tough, but I am doing pretty well now that the tests are over, although I am dying to find out how I did. I'm almost certain I failed Potions."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "How do you know?"

"Snape almost smiled when I turned in my paper."

"I see. And how are Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley?"

"Ron is dating Lavender Brown, and that seems to be doing well so far. Hermione is as much of a scholar as she's always been, and I'm sure she will break some kind of record for amount of OWLS passed with a score of Outstanding."

They shared a laugh, and Harry began to relax.

"But Harry, you haven't told me how you've been."

He blushed and looked down. "I've been…I've been good."

"You seem kind of distracted lately. Have you been sleeping properly, or perhaps is there a young lady you've been watching?"

"I have been having some weird dreams lately, and they keep me up some, but it's alright. It's getting better."

"What are your dreams about? I'm not very proficient at Divination, but maybe your inner mind is trying to tell you something?" he looked so very helpful and supportive that Harry almost caved and told him about his nightmares, but caught himself at the last minute. Dreams could be very powerful in the Wizarding world, and since most of his dreams were from the point of view of a killer, disclosing them might paint him in a violent or mentally unstable light.

"They aren't very vivid, just confused shadows and things like that. I feel like I'm falling sometimes, and mostly I just feel very, very afraid."

"Hmm…and they have been keeping you awake, you say?"

"A little more than half the time they wake me up really early in the morning, and I can't fall back asleep. It's alright, though, since I take naps in the afternoon after classes."

"Do you see anything specific at all, such as mirrors or corridors?"

He wrinkled his forehead. Those were the two most common themes in the areas in which people were tortured and killed, and a few times he'd even seen Sirius writhing on his back with a large black snake strangling him, but somehow he knew that saying so would be a very bad idea.

"Um…I had some dreams of the Mirror of Erised back in first year, but I haven't had any dreams with mirrors since then. Why?"

Dumbledore looked disappointed. "No reason. You evaded my question of your heart's state very well, Harry. How is Miss Weasley?"

"Ginny? Um…I guess she's fine? We don't really talk."

"Really? I thought you had some kind of romantic liaison."

Harry laughed, feeling kind of weird about the Headmaster keeping tabs on his love life. At least he didn't know about his orientation, no matter how 'flaming' the Professor's behavior and clothing could be at times. "She thought there was something, but she was wrong. I don't really want to talk about this right now."

"That is quite alright, Harry. I didn't mean to pry, but as I grow older I find my manners slip sometimes. Forgive an old man his faults?"

"Yeah, of course. Did you need to say anything else to me?"

"No, that is all. Take care of yourself, Harry, and try to get some sleep." He smiled, folding his hands and looking more like a grandfather than ever. Harry shivered, but forced a smile before slipping out the door.

Leaning his back against it, he let his mind dissect what had gone on and try to divine the Headmaster's intentions. Since when had he been so interested in his personal life? It was kind of creepy.

On the other side of the door, Albus slammed his fist onto his desk, the force dislodging the box of drugged chocolates, the gold-wrapped treats scattering, some rolling under his desk and others beneath his bookshelves. If Harry had taken even just a bite, he would have been compelled to relax and confide in him about what had been on his mind lately. He wasn't blind, and could clearly tell that something was going on in the Boy-Who-Lived's mind, and he planned on finding out one way or another.

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Stepping over the last guard's twisted body, Gellert grinned and continued down the corridor until he reached the warded door, the spells shattering when he pressed his palm to it and called the shadows that obey every Dark Wizard into being.

Passing through the same prison he had taken such joy in designing, he ran his fingertips along the walls, sending magic into its foundations to cure the molding and cracking in the stones that hadn't been properly nourished since his capture. His baby was going to be taken care of properly from now on.

His feet crunched into snow, and he inhaled the first breath of fresh air he'd experienced in almost a hundred years. His hair had retained some blonde streaks in his beard, but his hair was looking pretty straggly all over from what he could see of his reflection in a frozen puddle by the base of the steps. Sighing, he continued walking towards the fir trees bordering the prison of Nurmengard; a forest he knew stretched for twenty miles and was filled with "dangerous" Creatures with warlike personalities, since he had relocated them there himself, giving them a chance to raise their families without threat of 'Light' Wizards invading their nests and covens and terrorizing them for crimes they hadn't committed. Apparatation could be tracked in regular areas, so he was going to travel as deep as he felt was necessary into the forest until its magic would cloak his own, and then make his way to one of his secret strongholds. From there, he intended to plan how to get Albus back for betraying his heart, trust, and life.

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End chapter 36

*cheers* I love Gellert!


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Smiling carefully, hoping desperately that this wasn't some kind of trap, Harry approached Draco's study area, looking around to see if Pansy (he'd gotten used to calling her that when he thought about her since it was more convenient for mental growling) was browsing the shelves nearby. She wasn't.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he folded his hands behind his back and stepped quietly up behind the blonde, whose shoulder tension was visible through his thin shirt as he scribbled neatly some kind of essay. He idly recalled that Draco was second only to Hermione in classes, which was a little intimidating considering his own increasingly dwindling scores.

Unfolding his hands, he gently touched his shoulders, grinning when he jumped and whipped his head around, lips parting in surprise when he saw Harry standing there.

"Harry?"

"Mm-hm." He craned his neck to see which text he was working on. Its title was covered by a mug of tea. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, uh…" He removed the mug and shifted some papers around to reveal the optional project for Charms. "I was just working on some stuff for Charms. What…what are you doing here?" He seemed kind of nervous, and Harry didn't blame him. They hadn't had the chance to speak since their impromptu snog session in the garden, even though both had been quite eager to see each other again.

Harry shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you, and since you're such a brilliant scholar, I decided to check here first."

Draco looked sheepish. "I'm not a _brilliant-"_

"Sure you are. You're definitely better at studying than I am, according to the gossip grapevine, which we both know is rarely wrong." Helping himself to a seat, Harry removed the apples he'd snagged from the kitchen and offered a green one to Draco, since he knew he liked them from years of observing his 'rival'.

"Thanks." He took a bite, and relaxed into his chair, his leg casually bumping against Harry's by accident, and then deliberately when he realized what he had done. They were both a bit red, but neither mentioned it. Harry did move his foot to cover his under the table, leaning back in his chair so their shoulders touched too.

"So…how have you been?"

"I've been alright. Just not sleeping too well since every time I try to sleep I think about how much I wish I was kissing you and that keeps me up, but besides that I've been fine."

Harry spluttered, turned to look at him, and got a stroke on the cheek for his outrage. "You…you're unbelievable! You don't just say things like that to people!"

"Why not?" Draco moved closer, putting a hand on the table on Harry's other side, leaning over him and lightly brushing his nose against Harry's jaw, smiling when the girlish floral scent filled his nose and went straight to his head. "What kind of cologne do you wear, Harry?"

"I don't wear cologne."

Draco pulled back so he could look him in the eyes incredulously. "You smell this good naturally?"

"I smell good? Oh, you mean like flowers, right?"

"Yeah, it's really nice." He bent his head again, inhaling and feeling strangely peaceful as Harry's body warmed him and permitted him to put his arms haltingly around his hips. Harry even slid forward in his chair to give him more room, which he was going to take as a good sign.

"I bought this flowery shampoo by accident in the Muggle world, and since stuff like that is expensive I've just resigned myself to smelling like a garden until it runs out. It makes my hair really nice and smooth, though."

"I hope you don't run out anytime soon- I really like it."

Harry bit his lip, but smiled against the blonde's hair, wondering if it was really okay to cuddle with another boy from a rival House in the middle of the library where any wandering student could find them. Closing his eyes and resting his head atop Draco's, he decided that it was too much work to go through the effort of being responsible and worrying about the future. For now he was going to take in the thrilling knowledge that his crush fancied him back, and wasn't afraid to show it.

As if reading his mind, the blonde carefully kissed his neck twice, keeping it innocent since he didn't know how sexually aware Harry was yet. The Golden Boy had looked pretty innocent to him before they'd kissed, but the way Harry had been able to knock his solar plexus off course and transform his knees to jam tarts was testament to him being no neophyte at kissing. He was excited to explore this area of Harry soon, though, as long as the brunette was open to it. For now just holding him was satisfying, though.

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It was a beautiful late spring day, a scant three weeks left before the summer holidays, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School was sitting at his desk with the windows opened to let in the pleasant combination of birdsong and sunlight haunting the grounds. Some First Years were having a flying lesson, and he could hear their shouts and screams of excitement as the sensation of weightlessness was experienced for the first time. The corners of his mouth twitched up fondly at the memory of James Potter's first flying lesson. It had resulted in two other students with minor injuries, damage to school property, and some of the most amazing aerial maneuvers ever witnessed in a first timer to date. His record was only broken by his son, and even then that was comparatively recent. Speaking of Harry, he was going to find out what he was doing. Yesterday when he was having a stroll through the halls, he saw him looking pensive and preoccupied, fiddling with his hair, which he knew was a nervous habit of his and-

Something rustled, and a few papers floated off his desk as if from a passing breeze. Albus felt himself go rapidly cold, and something heavy settled in his stomach.

Looking up, his eyes widened and then suddenly his back was flaring with pain and he couldn't breathe. Albus Dumbledore, icon of the Light, was pressed against the wall with a man he'd thought was long dead standing very close to him, his fist squeezing his neck until his eyes filled with pained tears.

"G-Gellert!" He choked, foam forming at the corner of his mouth. The only acknowledgement he got was a vicious smile and a tightened grip.

"Surprised to see me? You shouldn't be, you know, because the good Lord says that your sins will always find you out, and I have indeed found you out." He chuckled and yanked his arm until he was able to gather force enough to fling Albus like a ragdoll into the visitor's seat. "Have a seat, Albus, and summon some tea. We've a long chat ahead of us." He twirled the elderly Wizard's wand, admiring the glint of sunlight along its smooth length. Flicking it suddenly, he uttered something harsh in Latin.

Albus whimpered when ropes appeared, binding him to the chair.

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End chapter 37


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"What kind of things?" Albus kept the tremble out of his voice, gripping his thighs tightly enough for the ropes to chafe his wrists. They burned, but he ignored it in favor of trying to probe Gellert's mind with Occlumency. He was flung back by his shields, though, and smacked his head on the wood decorative carving at the top of the chair.

"Well, we could talk about what kind of repayment I should give you for not only cursing me when my back was turned, but locking me up in my own prison to die slowly and miserably because your own so-called great magical prowess wasn't enough to take me out, while you lied to the entire Wizarding population and said that I was dead."

"My magic _is _strong enough; I just can't get it to fight you!"

Gellert frowned. "The only reason anyone's magic is uncooperative is when your emotional state is too tumultuous-"

"I always loved you." Albus softened his expression, knowing how convincing it was. Gellert lowered his eyebrows.

"Albus, you know that I have always hated it when you lied to me. I can see straight through you, and I am ashamed that you would stoop this low. Although I can't say it surprises me."

He looked insulted. "What are you trying to imply?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying that you're a dirty snake in the grass and it's about time the rest of the world knew that too."

Albus gasped. "You wouldn't dare! Besides, no one would believe you. To them, you are just another dead Dark Lord. Proving them wrong won't do anyone any good, only lower the trust of the people in the Ministry-"

"And we both know just how worthy of trust the Ministry is, what with how much money they have put towards bettering their lives and improving safety."

"Gellert, they still do more than we can do on our own."

"There is no 'we' anymore, Albus. Not since our little 'argument'. You know which argument I'm talking about, too."

"Gellert, I never meant what I said."

"Then you've been an very long time in apologizing. I was shattered." His frown became mocking, and his lips curled upwards. Albus dropped his pathetic emotional mask and snarled.

"Listen here. I am the most influential Wizard alive, and I could seriously help you get your reputation back. However, before I even begin to consider helping you, I would like to be untied, and for you to start showing me some respect."

Gellert laughed, leaning back in the Headmaster's chair and propping up his legs.

"Good God, you should hear yourself blow your own head up with ideas like that. I don't need your help, because I honestly could care less what society thinks of me. I merely want to correct the wrongs you've done. And since I'm in a good mood, I'm going to let you live for a little while longer. How long exactly, I don't know, but I'd recommend watching your back."

Standing, he disapparated with a loud crack that made Fawkes screech angrily.

Frozen, Albus realized he was still tied to the armchair.

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"So where were you?"

"When? Depending on the time, I could have been anywhere around the Castle." Harry answered cheekily, laughing quietly when Hermione smacked his cheek lightly. They were in the exact same area of the library he and Draco liked to come to snog, so he was a little pink from memories. They hadn't gone too far yet, since there was always the risk of someone walking in on them, but Harry was beginning to feel desperate for more, and every time he wasn't with his unofficial boyfriend, it grew worse. Being with him only alleviated it briefly.

"This afternoon, yesterday afternoon, and all the afternoons, evenings, and sometimes even mornings when you're just not there! Harry, what is going on with you?" She folded her arms, looked around, and then quietly asked, "Are you, you know, seeing someone? Because if you are I wished you'd tell me."

Harry looked down, and she continued, softer this time. "I consider us friends. Am I wrong?"

"Hermione, if I don't tell you something because I want to be sure first, does that make me a bad friend?"

Hermione blinked, paused, and replied, "No, no it doesn't. But please tell me sometime, when you're sure."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "You can count on me. And now I'm off to disappear again."

She shook her head as he walked away, wondering who he was seeing and whether it was a girl or a boy. One thing she was sure of was that she was going to do everything in her power to prevent Ginny from finding out.

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Sliding onto the sofa tucked in a dusty corner of an old Teacher's Lounge beside Draco, he kissed the side of his head in greeting and asked how he was.

"I'm alright. I got an upsetting letter from my mom, but I don't really want to think about that now. How are you?"

"I'm much better now that I'm with you."

They shared a snicker, and then Harry decided to be bold and sit in his lap. They'd gotten pretty close to doing this before, but someone had always been nearby so they'd restrained themselves.

Draco looked at him blankly. "What did I do right?"

Harry laughed. "Sorry, you didn't do anything- this was purely my idea. And you're comfortable now that you've been getting fat in the thighs."

"I am not getting fat!" Draco shrieked, trying to push Harry off in indignation. Harry just held on tight and laughed. This had been a good urge to act on since Draco was very adorable when he was irritated.

"I like it here." He whispered, resting his head in the crook of the Slytherin's shoulder, listening to his sort-of boyfriend mutter self-righteously about not being overweight.

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End chapter 38


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Gnawing on a finger, Tom emotionlessly watched as some of his new recruits practiced their Unforgivables on some rats he'd ordered Pettigrew to lure to the cages he'd set out. He felt a twinge of amusement when a particularly fat specimen that reminded him closely of his own barely-useful-enough-to-be-kept-alive minion did a back flip, squeaking loudly with alarm when the recruit removed the Imperius.

Turning, he left the room, tossing the trio of bones that had once been a finger into the fire as he went. He had a raid to plan out; followers to organize…and he should probably tell Lucius to bring some of his finer wines with him tonight since he was in the mood for a nightcap.

Throwing open the doors of the master suite he had claimed as his on the first day they took over the hotel, he found a shimmering personage seated in his favorite chair, smoking with one of those old-fashioned holders.

"Can I help you?" Behind his back he removed his wand from his sleeve, tilting his head back and doing his best to look imposing but hospitable. One couldn't be too careful with unknown beings, and there was no reason why they couldn't be converted into allies with the proper amount of persuasion, and perhaps a wand pointed at their families.

"Maybe." The smoke cleared a little bit, and he was able to see that it was a woman, albeit a very ancient-looking one with a thin wisp of white hair on the very crown of her bald head, protruding from a colorful scarf. "It depends on how quickly you can remove yourself from my home, and what kind of entertainment killing you will bring me."

Not an ally, then. "Oh, so you're the one who's been haunting this building?"

She chuckled, the noise like the rustling of dead leaves in the wind. "Oh no, little man, it is something a lot more threatening than me that you should be giving that honor to. But don't worry- they'll show themselves to you very soon. The anticipation for your meeting is the only thing keeping me from killing you right now, actually, so perhaps you should be grateful to them?" her smile was chilling in its warmth, reminding him of a grandmother, though he'd never known his.

"Would you be willing to introduce yourself?" He dropped his 'imposing' act and bowed slightly, so show his respect. A woman who could watch him for nearly a year and still show absolutely no sign of fear was not to be insulted, if he valued his life.

"No. Maybe…ask me again later, once that handsome servant of yours brings some wine."

He blinked. His Occlumency shields were impregnable, so how had she known that he was going to Summon Lucius?

"Because when you don't look like a reptile's deformed spawn, you have very easy features to read." She laughed at him, expelling smoke in fat puffs from her jaws. He was going to consider them jaws, because the amount of teeth within their wrinkly depths was positively inhuman.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I was human, you little fool? And why don't you sit down? I hate craning my head back to admire those pretty red eyes of yours. I'm going to enjoy adding them to my collection- I only have two sets of red currently, and neither is in the same shade as yours."

Sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa across from her, littered with burns and shredded in certain areas from when his servants had displeased him, he asked, "You collect eyes?"

"I think my previous statement makes that clear, yes."

"Would you be upset if I asked why?"

"Well, since we are going to be here for a little while, we might as well enter into a civil conversation. I admire your collectiveness, Mr. Riddle, even under these circumstances. I collect eyes because they are the windows to the soul, and I study soul magic as a hobby. I believe you may have dabbled in that as well if the word 'Horcruxe' means anything to you." She smirked wickedly, propping her tiny feet on the ottoman he had grown so fond of, wiggling her bare toes in obvious enjoyment. The room was very dim and smoky now, since her cigarette seemed to be generating an inordinate amount of it, and he was finding it a bit hard to concentrate. "Since I have answered a question of yours, I now wish to ask you one. Were you always this calm as a child?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean were you always a heartless bastard or was there a time when you were a sniveling little brat just like your peers at that god-awful orphanage?" Her voice had more of a snap to it now, and she irritably removed her feebly drooping cigarette from the holder, stubbed it out on the greasy carpet, and reached into her sack-like dress to pull out another one, lighting it with fire she created from snapping her fingers. Puffing contentedly away again, she gave him an expectant look. "It's hardly fair for you to expect me to answer, but not return the favor. If you'd had a mother to raise you, maybe you would have developed better manners."

"I…I suppose I was always fairly level-headed. I mean, I didn't see the point in showing anger or sadness when someone did something I didn't like because I could always get them back later, when they least expected it."

"You were a vindictive child, then. Ha-ha, I could have guessed that just by looking at your pointy little face!" She leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "Your eyebrows betray you, you know."

"Er…"

"Oh, they're coming!" She stood excitedly, clouds of smoke swirling around her from her cigarette.

Something made the room rattle, the cheap paintings swinging and the furniture vibrating with the force of it. He gripped the side of the couch, wishing he hadn't showed such weakness. The old woman was too happy to notice though, or else she just didn't care.

Shapes began to form out of the smoke, and he counted three- four- seven of them. A large one leaned against the wall while the other milled about, several floating high by the ceiling. Only two remained on the floor, one half-formed body of a man sitting casually on the other sofa, crossing his ankles and relaxing into its mealy cushions.

Realizing that the last one was no longer in sight, he looked rapidly around and nearly screamed when he saw that it was standing directly behind him, a ceremonial dagger in his hands. Before he could react, it was inches from his throat and he could smell something startlingly similar to brimstone.

"Now, Mr. Riddle, we would like to propose a business idea for you." His voice was clearly inhuman, and made nausea roil in his stomach. Why was his human body so flawed that he couldn't even convince his own neck to let him turn and see who was threatening him?

"What kind of idea?"

"Oh, it's a very good idea indeed. In fact, it's so good that you can't even consider saying no."

"Won't consider it or am not being given that option?"

He chuckled quietly. "Who cares? If you say no, I slit your throat right here and use your own blood to destroy your Horcruxes. If you say yes, then you agree to work for our goals and consequently might live long enough to accomplish your own." The knife pressed harder, and broke through the skin, letting a trickle of blood slide over it and into his robes. "What is your answer?"

"Yes, I will help you."

"Excellent!" The knife disappeared, and Tom gasped in relief. He had never been afraid like this before. He supposed it had to be true, then, what they said about the unknown being far more frightening than what you did know.

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Gasping, Harry shoot straight up, spine rigid. He wasn't in his dormitory, or even in a bed! Disoriented, he looked around and sighed when he saw that he was on the large sofa he and Draco hung out on, the blonde curled into an adorable ball in the opposite corner, hugging a pillow in the cradle of his limbs. Shaking his head to clear the upsetting images and rubbing his neck absently to remind himself that he wasn't cut there, he crawled over to Draco's half of the sofa and wrapped himself around the taller boy. The warmth from the other's body soothed him back into slumber, and he dreamed vaguely of gray eyes and Luna Lovegood and daffodils for a few hours, waking slowly to realize that he was cold. The daffodils in his dream were singing, too, which was kind of disconcerting in hindsight. He decided that if his subconscious kept acting like this, he was going to ostracize himself from it for the sake of his own sanity.

He could already imagine the screaming fit Ron was going to have tomorrow when he realized that Harry didn't come back all night. He shivered, and Draco rolled over in his sleep, mindlessly embracing him and pulling his head down to nestle in the center of his chest, where he could hear his steady heartbeat. Last year he hadn't known Draco had a heart, much less that one day he would be so close to it, hearing it thrum against his eardrums.

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End chapter 39

I'd just like to point out that the creepy old lady is mine, not a barely-known canon character. Let me know your thoughts on this development, please!


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: this is epic! I have officially screwed over my previous petty plans for this story, since I have passed the ten chapter mark past my original intention of having only 30. I am so very weak-willed (sighs).

Chapter Forty

Wincing, Harry rubbed at his ears.

"I can't believe you! I actually waited up all night for you…I was so worried!" Ron gripped his shoulders, forcing him to look up at him. Hoarsely, his throat raw from screaming at his wayward best friend, he asked, "And now you won't even tell me where you were, or who you were with? God, Harry, am I just some object to you? I have feelings, you know! And right now I'm feeling pretty unappreciated and-"

Harry hugged him. Sure, it was a girly thing to do, but Ron responded well to hugs from his mother, so maybe it would work with him too? It appeared to be doing so, since the redhead slumped, the fire leaving him.

"Harry…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

Harry opened his mouth to say 'no', but closed it an reconsidered. Next week was the start of the summer holidays and he didn't want to leave his friend with this kind of tension between them. Taking a deep breath, he softly said, "I'm seeing somebody."

"No shite."

"It's a guy."

"I repeat my earlier statement."

Slipping out of the embrace so he could look up at him, Harry asked, "You knew?"

"That you're queer? Duh. No offense, but it's a little obvious, even to somebody as thick as me. Besides, I found a picture on your bed close to the beginning of the year with you and some guy in Muggle clothes hugging pretty close with him kissing your cheek."

Harry colored and Ron laughed loudly at him. "What, were you keeping it a secret or something?"

"Uh, I was trying to?"

"Well, I'll admit that if the picture hadn't tipped me off, then I wouldn't have been able to tell. So…what's the guy's name?"

"You aren't upset, or disgusted or anything? Hermione said that Wizards don't like queers." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor.

"Hermione is a little behind the times. A lot of traditionalists, the ones who write the books she reads, still follow the 'code of silence', but the younger generation doesn't really care too much. I'd keep my mouth shut about it anyway, though, since people are always going to use something that makes you different against you."

"The Daily Prophet would have a field day."

"Yeah…so back to my earlier question. Who the hell was that guy and where did you meet him?"

Harry's face fell when he realized he was going to have to explain Jordan, but he opened his mouth and softly recounted how they'd met, their relationship, and finally walking in on him with some dirty bint in the same bed they used to share on weekends.

"Oh my god, Harry, I'm sorry I brought it up." He initiated the hug this time, leading them over to sit on the edge of his bed. The dormitory was empty since it was Saturday afternoon and a Hogsmeade weekend, so they didn't have to worry about Seamus skipping in and making crude jokes about them being all cuddly.

"But wait…if you and Jordan aren't together, then who are you seeing now?"

"Er…I don't think you're going to take this one quite as well."

"What do you mean?"

"He's in Slytherin."

"What?!"

"Heh, I thought you'd say that."

Ron spluttered. "But- but- Harry! Why in Merlin's name would you want to date one of those slimy snakes?"

"He is not slimy!"

Ron sighed. "Alright, I'm going to be mature about this, but we are going to have a serious talk afterwards about what Slytherins have done to get their nasty reputation."

"Hold onto that maturity, then, because I'm dating Draco."

"Oh. I didn't know there were two boys named Draco in Slytherin House."

Harry smacked his forehead.

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"Um, Harry?"

"Hm?" Harry looked up from where he'd been glumly picking his toast to pieces to see Neville looking at him with worry.

"Did you and Ron have a fight or something?"

"Yeah." His answer was brusquer than he had intended, so he quickly added, "We'll be okay soon, though. He's just a little shocked right now, and said he needed some time to think about some stuff we talked about."

"Oh. Do you want to walk with me to Potions?" His request was tentative, but since Neville rarely asked for anything, Harry nodded. Neville was slowly opening up, standing a little straighter every day. Harry was determined to encourage that at any cost, and walking to class with him was hardly a sacrifice.

"I'd love to. Just let me finish my coffee really quick, okay?" He couldn't eat anything, the emotional turmoil of yesterday evening having set off a particularly horrible series of nightmares that had nauseated him badly enough to cause him to throw up the entire inventory of half-digested food left in his stomach. It wasn't ready to be filled again, but wasn't objecting to coffee so far and he would never make it through the day without some serious caffeine.

"Sure." Neville drummed his fingers casually on the table for a few seconds, looking around the Great Hall idly. His eyes widened when he saw Luna at the Slytherin table sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, chatting with a sweet smile on her face to the Greengrass girl. What was going on?

"Okay, I'm done." Harry set his empty mug down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and hefting his book bag over his shoulder. They would be about ten minutes early, but this would just mean that Snape couldn't take points away for being a second late.

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Rubbing his finally beard-less chin, Gellert pored over his updated maps of the Wizarding power systems. This new dark lord, who was still declared 'dead' by the Ministry (go figure) wasn't really as powerful as he came across to be. However, he never had handled competition well, even as a child when he and Albus had been friends, so he made up his mind to eliminate this 'You-Know-Who' as soon as possible.

Brushing dust off of a thick book bound in wrinkled material similar in texture to leather, he opened it after whispering the unlocking spells, running his fingers along the table of contents until he reached ritual number 2098, the ritual of forced trust. After all, what better way to infiltrate a Dark Lord's lair than to induce false confidences?

Gathering his equipment and doing an inventory of Potions ingredients he didn't have under stasis charms, he organized it on a large table that he left open for situations such as this, making a list of anything else he needed from the outside world.

Removing his cloak from its hook, he pulled it on and tucked his hair into the hood, which he had left longer than it had been before prison. He'd gotten kind of attached to it, after years of having it.

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The shopkeepers didn't ask any questions when he handed them his list, quickly getting what he asked for, shaking slightly when it was time for him to leave and he wandered around the store without departing, taking in the numerous ingredients that no longer graced the shelves due to being voted illegal by the Ministry. This could present some potential problems if they were no longer grown…he possessed a sizable collection of Dark Arts books that called for highly volatile ingredients, and he intended to use many of those spells.

Approaching the desk casually, gently swinging his bag of supplies, he asked, "Excuse me, do you carry Red Nightshade?"

The man sputtered, shrank back, and finally squeaked out, "I apologize sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store, or I'll call the aurors!"

Gellert sighed. "I guess that's a no, then." Dammit.

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End chapter 40

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	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

Ron shuffled his feet, looking down and biting his lip. Harry didn't speak, or move. Hell, he was hardly breathing. His best friend was a very emotional person, who acted before he thought, and when he decided to apologize, he was as skittish as a deer.

Finally the blue eyes looked up, and he looked so remorseful that Harry silently stood and hugged him. This was their second girly hug in less than three days, so that was a little worrisome since Ron was straighter than a bedpost, but he decided not to mention it.

"I'm sorry I was such a prick about it."

"It's okay…I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I fancied him, much less that we were seeing each other."

Ron pulled back, and sat down on the bench next to him. In between classes this was a major traffic point, but after dinner it was emptier than a tomb, which made it a relatively decent place to have a private chat in the evening.

"Is he really not a bad bloke, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No, no, he's lovely to me…we cuddle and talk and everything."

"God, Harry, I don't want to even think about Malfoy and cuddling in the same sentence- its fucking with my idea of him kicking every small animal that dares to cross his path."

Harry burst into hysterical laughter, the mental image of Draco punting Neville's toad Trevor over a fence with a wicked grin on his face filling his mind.

"Oi, what's so funny?" Ron poked his side, grinning despite his feigned irritation.

"N-nothing! I just thought of something funny." He laughed quietly, scooting closer to his friend and briefly resting their heads together. "I'm glad you're okay with this. Really, I would hate for something like a boyfriend to come between everything we've been through."

"Me too. Does…does Hermione know yet?"

"No, but she does know that I'm spending time with someone. You're the first to know."

"Heh, I feel special now."

"That's because you are special. I wouldn't be friends with you if you weren't, you know that, right?"

"Yes, of course, as long as you know it's the same for you."

"Aw, when did you turn into such a sap?"

"I am not a sap!"

"Sure you aren't."

"Hey!"

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"Guh." Harry gurgled sleepily, rolling over and nuzzling Draco's shoulder. They'd fallen asleep in the Lounge again, and Harry wondered what Draco told his friends when he didn't come back all night. Or maybe they didn't ask personal questions in Slytherin House…

"Hm?" Draco turned his head, smiled a little when he saw his boyfriend trying to fall back asleep, and maneuvered his body so he could hold him. Harry mumbled, and settled back down. Lifting his wrist and checking his watch, he noted that it was 5:30 a.m.

"Harry, we gotta get up soon…"

"Why?"

"Because if we want to eat breakfast without greasy hair or smirking friends who make lewd comments about where you spent the night, we've got to go to our dorms and catch a quick shower."

Harry shook his head. "No, I want to stay here with you."

"But then we have to spend the day with greasy hair!"

"It's nice to know that your hair means more to you than I do." Harry snorted, combing his hair with his fingers and grimacing at the grease that was indeed coating it. He hadn't had a chance to wash his hair in a couple of days, so he supposed he would have to leave his happy little haven with Draco to scrub it.

"Hey, why don't you have a bath with me?"

Harry raised his eyebrows both at his boyfriend's ridiculously hopeful tone and their surroundings. "Um, Draco, we're on a sofa, and you aren't allowed to let people from other Houses in your-"

"I meant in the Prefect's bathroom."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So…did you want to?"

Considering that they hadn't actually seen each other naked before, Harry supposed that this was going to be some kind of 'big step' in their relationship, but it didn't really feel like one. "Sure. Did you want to go now? I don't know where it is." That was a lie, but for some reason he didn't want to reveal anything private he and Cedric had shared, even something as boring as Cedric letting him into the Prefect's bath so he could figure out his Egg.

Draco nodded, tossing back their borrowed blankets and digging through the mess they'd made for his shirt and sweater. Looking around, Harry saw their ties tangled on the floor and smiled. They had mimicked their owners, it seemed.

Straightening their clothing and patting down their hair, they left the room they spent so much time in and Harry dutifully followed the blond to the private bathroom.

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Should he be blushing? He was, he decided, but the point was that he wasn't. Seeing Draco naked just wasn't as embarrassing as it had been with Jordan, although the Slytherin was looking a little pink. Grinning privately, he sank into the hot water and winced when it turned out to be hotter than he had expected.

"You alright?"

"Uh-huh. Are you coming in?"

"In a minute."

Harry laughed. "What, do you have a warm-up beauty routine for before bath time?"

Draco snorted. "No, and I don't have beauty routines!"

"Then how do you explain why you always look so nice?"

"You think I look nice?" Since Draco sounded hopeful, Harry chose to stroke his ego for once.

"You always look more than nice to me; you look gorgeous." He looked over his shoulder at him, smiling his sweetest smile. Draco tossed a hair pin at him, walking over and slipping into the water beside him.

"What?"

"Nothing." Harry shrugged, pecking him on the cheek. "I just like you. A lot."

Draco flushed, and ducked under the water to hide it, although it was a bit too late.

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End chapter 41


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

The school year was finally over, and Harry didn't know what he was going to do with himself over the summer while waiting for the green light from the Headmaster regarding being allowed to see the Weasleys. However, he knew that there was somebody else he was going to miss a lot more than the Weasleys over the summer, no matter how guilty he felt about it.

Draco stood on the other side of the hallway crowded with students chattering and giving weeping final goodbyes to graduating seventh-years. Their eyes met occasionally, when they thought no one would see, and Harry bit his lip. He wanted to kiss him goodbye again, their little tryst in the 3rd floor broom closet not quite satisfying him, but that was just asking for trouble.

"Harry? Harry!"

His head whipped to the side, seeing Hermione with her hands on her hips and brows dangerously lowered.

"Harry, have you been ignoring me again? As if yesterday was not enough, you're doing it again today?!"

"I was ignoring you yesterday?"

His voice was so utterly innocent and confused that Hermione just decided to let it go. "God, you know what? Forget it. Right now you're paying attention, so I'd like to ask you if you want to go find a carriage."

Looking around, he saw that the hall had emptied quite a bit, and Draco was slowly walking away, looking back over his shoulder at him frequently and with undeniable longing. Harry cautiously raised his hand and waved goodbye.

Yep. He definitely didn't know what he was going to do with himself this summer. Hermione led the way out to the carriage, chattering about some big game Viktor Krum was playing this summer, which was something that would normally have caught his attention, but he was feeling too depressed and lonely to pay more than brief interest.

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"See you guys later!" smiling, not wanting them to remember him frowning as he left, he passed through the barrier.

On the other side, Uncle Vernon was already waiting for him, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Not wanting to irritate him, Harry sped up and quickly loaded his trunk, releasing Hedwig to find some nesting place in the woods, and then climbing in.

Without waiting for him to buckle his seat belt, the car pealed out, tires screeching, and they rode home in silence aside from Vernon honking at other drivers or shaking his fist back at them.

Harry studied his folded hands, the small ring Draco had slipped into his pocket with a note without him noticing until they separated glinting in the light. The note had said on the outside not to open it until he was at home, so he was respecting his boyfriend's wishes, no matter how tempted he was to open it and read his last taste of the blonde for 2 and a half long months.

The car jolted to a stop.

Sluggishly, he crawled out and hefted his trunk, dragging it inside as quickly as he could, nearly falling over due to some difficulties balancing his burdens and opening the door at the same time. Climbing the stairs to his room, he entered and arranged his things in their usual places before taking a deep breath.

Reaching slowly into his pocket where he'd tucked the blonde's note, he unfolded it slowly and with care. On the thin parchement were scrawled three words that made his heart do a flip from not knowing whether to soar into his skull or sink to his shoes.

'_I love you.'_

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End Part I and chapter 42

The second part will be popping up soon enough, and I am open to any suggestions for titles since I suck at picking titles. I would recommend putting me on 'alert' so you can be informed when I post it. Thanks so much for all the reviews and encouragement you guys have given me!


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